A Clean Slate
by Chanse Lowell
Summary: AH BxE "Grasp your partner's hips. Push deep with your thumbs," the teacher announces. I don't know what comes over me, but my hands are at my partner's mercy the moment they touch her. Why am I so mesmerized by this older woman? My hands brush over her soft skin, and I'm paralyzed, panting, and begging with my eyes to do more. Why should age matter? I touch first, ask later.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Blind Dates**

"Hi, Edward!" my date waves at me from several feet away. She leans over, probably to stare at a crab trapped in the tidal pool.

I look away and a hollow feeling washes over me.

I wish I was blind.

She's pretty. But I'm uninterested. And I'm sick of her hints and trying to constantly get me to touch her or look down her shirt.

Emmett flirts with his date.

Why can't I do that?

I look back over at Haley, but void fills my heart.

With a few hops on the rocks, I'm further out.

Waves crash below my feet, and before I can even think about what I'm doing, I dive in.

_Shhhhhhhhuuuuuuhhhhh, shhhhhuuuuhhhhh . . ._

The waves roar in my ears, and consume all my thoughts of inadequacy, washing away my desire to be something other than me.

I hold my breath and smile inside, as seaweed brushes against my legs.

When I finally bob to the surface, my date and Emmett's are screaming at him to save me.

It was a two foot drop; it's not like I went cliff diving. Besides, the waves aren't strong enough to bash my skull into the rocks. So what are they worried about?

I dart around the rocks; swim ashore a few feet away.

Haley's incessant shrieking makes my ears shut off completely and my eyes glaze over.

"Oh my God, Edward! Are you okay? You're not wearing swim trunks. Did you fall in?" Haley crows.

I look at her, expressionless. "I'm fine. I love the ocean; thought I'd go for a swim is all." I shrug.

A few minutes later, after she's calmed down and touched my arm several times, I stand next to her, above the tidal pool as I drip dry, and feel as trapped as the mollusks around me.

Only they can hide in the cracks and crevices when she frightens them. Lucky bastards.

I'm exposed.

My date, Haley, is trying to show off, attract my attention by using big words while she digs out little hermit crabs and shows them to me.

I smile in all the right moments; reply when needed.

I die inside each moment.

My head is cloudy, and not in a good way.

"No! Stop . . . not _that_!" Cheryl, Haley's friend, and Emmett's date, squeals.

Emmett chases her on the beach, threatening her with a sea cucumber and makes obnoxious noises, pretending to be a ventriloquist.

I smile and roll my eyes.

Haley smiles at me and tries harder to get my attention, pointing out a few more sea creatures.

I'm numb, inside and out. I watch, unseeing. I breathe, but it's painful, because my chest is filled with a longing to be anywhere but here.

"Are your feet freezing yet?" She smiles, but her eyes are unaffected. The disingenuous way she giggles sets my teeth on edge. I can feel a headache coming on. I shove my hands in my pockets so I can ball them up without her noticing.

"Nah, they're fine. I surf all the time with Emmett, so we're kind of used to the chilly water," I say.

"I've heard that you do it every weekend. I'd love to come watch you sometime," she responds.

"You should join us. It's boring to watch, but a huge rush to actually ride the wave. Have you ever been?" I already know the answer before she says it.

"No way! I'm too afraid of being that deep in the ocean. What about sharks and—"

I stop listening to her and tune into the white noise of the surf. She just killed any tiny shred I had left of being even a tiny bit interested in her.

"Hey, bro, I need to go! I've gotta be somewhere tonight, and it's gonna be an hour drive in this traffic to get home!" Emmett calls.

_Liar; you've got nowhere to be. You're just ready to get her naked and in your bed._ I nod.

"You ready?" I ask Haley.

Her face falls. She wanted to stay here and be with me longer, even though I've been barely paying any attention to her?

"Sure," she says.

She stares into my eyes, and looks crestfallen.

We walk to Emmett's Jeep, and the drive home is awkward; I fidget in the backseat while keeping plenty of space between myself and my date.

Emmett tries to joke and entertain.

I mostly keep my eyes focused on the scenery out the window.

When we drop Haley off at her apartment first, I try not to groan as I walk her up to her door.

"See you at school?" she asks, head bent and looking up at me through her lashes. Her arms wrap around her stomach and create some cleavage.

"Yeah. I'm sure I'll see you there," I reply.

"Okay, thanks for inviting me today. I had a great time." She smiles, but it's halfhearted.

I didn't invite her. Emmett invited Cheryl, and she invited Haley.

"Good, I'm glad. Have a good night." I wave, tuck my hands in my pockets, turn around and leave.

I hear her door open and close behind me. My pace quickens.

I drop myself back into Emmett's Jeep. The next few minutes are silent as we drive back to our apartment building.

Once there, he tells his date to go ahead and let herself into his place and he'll be there in a few minutes.

Cheryl smiles at him and does as he asks.

When she's out of hearing distance, he turns to me.

"Dude, what the hell? Haley's hot! You want me to call her? I'll go back to her place and get her. She's totally into you."

I put my palm in the air, making a stop gesture and wave it around, signaling I'm not interested with an accompanied shaking head.

"Why're you sulking like a pussy? Did you get stung by a jellyfish or somethin'?" His whole face wrinkles in confusion.

"Nah, man, that's not it. I'm not interested in her. I'd rather go home and work on some of my school projects," I say.

"Whatever. I don't get you. How many girls from school are you gonna turn down? Is there something wrong with you I should know about? You got a disease?"

I wrinkle my nose. "Nothing's wrong. She's not my type. No big deal." I shove my hands in my pockets once more and shrug.

"Not your _type_?" he scoffs. "She's every guy's type. She's cool. You're too damn picky—that's what your problem is." He shoves me in the shoulder, rolls his eyes at me, chuckling, and then lopes toward his apartment.

When he's gone, I let out a gust of air and my shoulders crash down to where they're supposed to be—rather than being earmuffs.

"Shit. I suck at this," I mutter and amble back to my place; alone.

.

.

.

"Hey, doofus, Cheryl and I were thinking about inviting Haley over to watch a movie with us. We want you to join us," Emmett says.

"I'm at the store. I can't talk right now," I say, annoyed. He knows I try not to be one of those distracted people in a store on their phone, yet he won't shut up. I've been telling him for five minutes now I've gotta go.

"What is it gonna take to get you interested in a girl? Does she need a pocket calculator and an extensive vocabulary in binary computer language?" He snorts and then chuckles.

"It would help. You know me—if there's nothing going on above their shoulders, then there's nothing going on with me below the belt line." I pull out my wallet while I stand in line.

"I'll just tell Haley you're gay; it'll be easier." He hangs up abruptly.

"Thanks, man. Appreciate it," I murmur, staring at my phone and then put it away.

I pay for my food, and when I get outside . . .

_Pssssshhhhhhhhfffffff . . ._

It's pouring rain.

Awww . . . Seriously? I walked. Didn't want to balance grocery bags on my handle bars.

Stupid weather. I took too long in the store and the storm I figured I'd beat, rolled in before I finished.

I bend my head to the side and look past the store's eave. The sky is an angry gray. I drop my head and curse under my breath.

Maybe I can wait it out?

I take a few steps away from the curb.

This is why my parents keep hounding me and pressing to give me more money and a car. I constantly refuse; I like to make my own way. My bike's fine. Walking's fine. Or usually is.

I consider calling Emmett back, asking him to come get me and give me a ride. I've got six bags of groceries here with me. Maybe I can suffer through him forcing that girl on me again in exchange for a life.

Haley wasn't that bad . . .

_Yes, she was._

I lean up against the wall right next to the exit of the store, staying out of the way of patrons leaving. I'm resigned to wait.

I can't stomach anymore of Emmett's matchmaking.

The eave protects me from the torrential pouring rain, and I'm not in a hurry to get home.

I find a spot that keeps me conspicuous enough, so it's clear I'm merely biding my time, waiting for the weather to get better. I don't wanna look like some crazy loitering guy or some kind of stalker after somebody working in the store.

I look around to see if there's a bus anywhere in sight. But then I remember I spent all of my cash in the store.

I prop myself up against the wall and set my groceries down.

While I'm considering I might be standing here a long time since the entire sky is growing more tumultuous by the second, a gorgeous woman with luminous dark eyes and long, straight sienna hair, steps out of the store.

I stand straighter and lean a little toward her. My eyes widen ever so slightly as they roam over her body.

Fuck. The way she moves . . . It's like every sex fantasy I've had, sprouted legs and decided to go for a stroll in the grocery store I frequent.

She's oblivious to me watching her; she smiles when she observes the weather.

She's thrilled by this apocalyptic storm? This wind is crazy. I chuckle at the back of my throat, cross my arms and pay even closer attention to her every move.

She pushes a cart slowly and then stops for a moment to chat on her phone. I can't take my eyes off of her. I try not to listen to her conversation, but she's close enough I can't block it out.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm so glad you're having fun. I feel like I haven't seen you inages . . . I can't wait to see you again!"

My stomach drops.

_Taken_! Oh God.

My palms sweat as my mind races.

_Say something to her._

_What? Fuck no!_

I try to look away, but it's like my neck forgot how to work. My eyes stay trained on her while my spine stays rigid.

Maybe I'm misunderstanding. Maybe she's not taken?

_Of course she's taken, you dope. A woman that beautiful and powerful? Look at her. Her posture and the way she merely stands there; she exudes nothing but passion and control._

She brushes her long dark, shiny hair behind her shoulder and then tucks a few strands behind her ear. A second later, she looks over and smiles at me. I manage to smile back even though my face feels like it's made of stone.

Her reaction to me is very comfortable, and confident as hell.

A fire rushes through me, and lands in my gut.

She gives a tiny wave and goes back to her phone call, but looks over in my direction every few minutes. It seems like she doesn't give a fuck if some college guy is hard as hell and ogling her.

And that in itself, is a huge turn on.

I release a tight breath and push my shoulders back harder into the wall behind me.

She sits down on a concrete bench, the eave giving her some protection from the raging storm, but the wind's probably hitting her legs. Her conversation continues to flow. She props an elbow behind her and leans her body back. Her dark blue tank top lifts a little bit at the hem, showing a portion of her tight abs. Oh fuck! This woman has a slamming body. She crosses one leg over the other; her white linen shorts rise slightly, and I get a good view of her toned hamstring as well.

My mouth waters at her curves; I can't escape them. They're everywhere. She's wearing some black strappy heels that make her long slinky legs flex deliciously at me; it almost chokes the breath out of me.

"I miss you too. Give yourself a big hug and kiss for me." She smiles. Her face lights up, and a little laugh courses through her.

I've never heard anything more beautiful. She continues her conversation, and I stop listening as she pulls her tank top down, because her black lacy bra is poking out the top. God, I can't stop staring. Those big, round beautiful breasts are taunting me.

She sits up for a second and wipes her brow and neck with the back of her hand as a little bit of splash-back from the rain hits her. After a few more nods of her head and sparse acknowledgments to whoever she's talking to on the phone, she pushes herself up onto her hand and uncrosses her legs. She's propped up to a forty five degree angle when she lets go of the bench then reaches back behind her and pushes her hair up off of her neck.

Jesus! With the way she's leaning back and her abs curved like that—my mind starts to wander, and I can't help but imagine being on top of her, pulling that shirt off, feeling those tits in my hands. My dick agrees—_yeah, do _that!

"Good night, baby." She sighs, sounding like she's in heaven. After shaking her hair out a little, she pushes herself completely upright and slides to the edge of the bench.

Her arms are shapely, her back is arching and her shirt puckers behind her. How am I still standing here? I can barely make out a white thong under her shorts, and I've lost the ability to close my mouth.

I don't know this woman, but my groin is begging me to get to know her intimately before it beats me over the head. She tucks her phone away and pauses for a moment. It looks like she's reflecting about the person she was talking to. Dammit. Why does she have to be taken? How many girls at school ask me out and act interested, and I don't give a fuck? I finally find a woman that piques my interest, and she's unavailable.

My knees lock.

She's smiles to herself, and hell, my dick likes that too. What the fuck is wrong with me? I keep staring at her like I want to . . . I'm sure she already knows _exactly_ what I want to do with her. My body's been pretty fucking clear.

I clear my throat. I've gotta say something to her. My stomach fists itself, warring with my dick apparently. My body's going in opposite directions. Ready to puke from nerves, and ready to come, and the latter's based on merely looking at this woman.

I don't want to disturb her but I know my time is limited before she leaves, so I approach her. "Excuse me, Miss?"

"Yes?" she responds with a shiny smile that knocks me back a step.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I walked to this store, and as you can see it's pouring. I only live two blocks from here. Is there any way I can bum a ride from you? I'll give you some money for gas as soon as I get to my place. I would've caught the bus or a cab, but I used all my cash in the grocery store."

She puckers her lips for a second, her eyes walk over my body and then she says, "Of course. Nobody should walk in this weather." It sounds like she's teasing me, almost calling me a wimp.

She grabs my bicep and pulls me over to her cart. "Put your groceries in my basket, and I'll load them into my car. Wait here."

My eyes travel to my arm where she touched me. The skin there tingles, but somehow, in a daze, I place my groceries quickly in with hers. When I'm done, I look for her out in the parking lot. It's difficult to focus. My head is foggy.

How the hell did she do that to me with one touch?

I spot her, and she appears to be completely unconcerned about the weather, even though it's obvious she spends a lot of time on her appearance. I'm baffled by this. Haley would've never jumped into that ocean with me today.

But this woman?

Goddamn. I think she would have tossed me in herself before diving in.

I smirk at her in amusement. She's got her hands out, palms up, face to the sky, laughing as the rain pummels her.

Most women would be freaking out about ruining their hairdo or makeup. Not this woman. She's soaked almost instantly. Her shorts are see-through and pasted to her ass, making that thong easy to see.

She walks to her car with a leisurely pace, enjoying this downpour. At one point, she even stops, tilts her head back and extends her tongue to catch some of the moisture.

Fuck if that doesn't make the small amount of blood left in my brain, travel south.

I lean up against the store's column, before I really do fall on my ass. Though, I like the idea she would be the one to put me there.

Wild woman with a zest for life! They don't have women like this at school. I've never, ever seen anything even remotely close to her.

If I had, I'd be home fucking that woman right now, rather than here, buying food. Who needs food with this exotic creature walking around?

She turns, smiles and waves at me, but it's not the way Haley kept doing it today. It's not because she's showing off. She's truly happy, and the woman can't seem to help herself by spreading her joy.

I am left standing with my mouth hanging open and my tongue almost flopping out of my mouth. She heads over to her expensive car after I wave back, and she opens the trunk.

She waves me over. I grab the cart and haul ass. Once I'm next to her, she starts placing the groceries inside. I try to help, but she's too damn quick and when she's done, she unlocks the car and opens the passengers door for me.

I slip inside, and wait for her to join me. But she doesn't. She takes the time to return the grocery cart to it's proper place. While she clutches her purse to her side, she laughs even harder at the weather.

I lean over from inside the car and pop her door open for her.

After she slides in, she turns toward me and sighs. Her eyes sparkle at me, and she doesn't say a damn thing. But she doesn't have to. It's spoken in her expression. She wishes the weather did this every day.

Is there a reason she likes it to be this chaotic and unpredictable?

I smile back. God—I want to know her. Like _really_ know her—every bit.

My chest aches simply inhaling her scent and knowing I'm a lucky son of a bitch to even have these few moments where I'm able to sit next to her.

"Thanks for doing this," I say.

She waits for a second, digs her keys back out and says, "Buckle up. I like to drive fast. And I don't give a damn the street's wet."

Holy shit! My eyes go wide.

She shifts in her seat, all sopping wet, and a waft of the most intoxicating smell I've ever encountered, assaults my senses and travels straight to my already stiff cock. Did the rain intensify her smell? Usually it washes perfume away. Or does she naturally smell like this?

Yeah, she's taken. With a scent like that? Has to be.

I lean toward her in a subtle way and take another whiff. My insides go nuts.

God damn. That shit she's wearing? Whatever it is—makes my teeth line up, ready to take a bite out of her.

Christ. She could turn a rabbit into a raging carnivore.

"We're going to stop by my place first so I can put my groceries away then I'll bring you home."

I can't speak, so I only nod.

"Got a name or should I call you Junior?" Her eyes have a wicked glint in them.

"_Junior_?" I ask. Where did that come from?

"Well, you're obviously a college kid, and I'm old enough to be your grandma."

My eyebrow rises. My grandma does _not_ look remotely like this!

"Mr. Cullen, and I'm pleased to meet you, Miss . . . ?" I use my last name to sound formal so I can mess with her.

"Mrs. Black."

I search for a ring in vain. There's nothing there. I'm left confused and even more on edge.

She notices my eyes studying her soft, feminine fingers. "Divorced," she informs me as she rounds a corner fast enough to spray down the walkway. She was right; she does like to drive fast.

I don't bother to grip the door frame. I want to lean as close to her as I can so I can lap up that delicious scent. It's addictive.

"I love this weather, don't you?" she asks.

"When I don't have groceries, I love riding in it."

"Horses?"

"No, my bike." I stare at her ring finger again. Divorced? She didn't say she had a boyfriend though . . .

"Motorocycle? Why didn't you drive it to the grocery store instead of walking?"

Before I can answer, she pulls up to her house and parks. It's a beautiful, large, expensive looking home with a perfectly manicured lawn. The front of the house has some red and tan stone work and there's a lot of soft lighting that focuses the eye on particularly nice points of the home. It's very charming and alluring, like _her_.

"Stay here, I'll be right back," she says as she leaves the car.

I quirk an eyebrow at her. This woman is incredibly trusting or stupid, because she leaves the keys in the ignition. I could steal her Roll's and she doesn't know anything about me except my last name. I don't think she's stupid though. She seems very witty and intelligent. So why did she do that?

I look around her car and glance at her purse she's even left behind. When I peek inside, without touching it at all, I choke on my air. Is that a . . . ? It is. Damn. There's a small silver bullet vibe close to the top, not hidden in the least.

I adjust myself. There's no way I thought I could get harder, but fuck. That did it.

She returns quickly, soaking again and she's all breathy.

"Woooh! I love being this wet," she says as she shifts the gear and drives off aggressively. "So, Cullen, what do you do besides hit on old ladies with their wet thong shoved up their crack?"

I stop breathing, and my heart hammers so hard, it forces some blood back up to my brain. It deafens me for a moment as it travels past my ears. "Well, when I'm not trying to find an excuse to get into their pants, I'm studying at school." I smirk.

"_School_? How boring," she teases, rolling her eyes dramatically. "And what do you study?

"I'm majoring in computer software engineering."

"Impressive," she says even though her body language is telling me that she's not really impressed at all. "Although you look more like a Calvin Klein model than an egg-head computer guy."

Is she flirting with me? It sure fucking sounds like it. "I like rewiring and short circuiting motherboards. I'm really good with my hands, and the smaller the equipment, the better," I hint.

"You computer guys are all alike. All about your hardware." She chuckles, and it's low and dirty, and _God_, can I get her naked now?

I squirm in my seat, and the wet fabric, squishes.

"Hardware can only get you so far . . ." Her brow arches and her cheekbone dances right along with it.

I laugh at how witty she is. "You know computer guys?" I wouldn't have pictured her with a boring, cerebral guy. She doesn't strike me as the type that would date a computer nerd. I kind of feel like I'm the exception to the rule. I'm not obsessed with computers, I'm not a nerd, but I'm good at taking things apart, and I'm pretty intuitive with machinery. It was with my mom's encouragement I went this route.

"I know every kind of guy there is to know." She dips her head a little, and goes serious.

She rounds the block and we pass by her house again. Why is she driving around in circles?

_You gotta give her directions, rather than try to get her to stroke your ego, you dickhead._

"Cute," I say. "Take a left up here and head out to Hollinger Street then take a right."

"I thought college guys were supposed to be sharp."

"They are until they're in your presence. You make me lose focus," I admit, and I can't believe I'm revealing this so soon. I usually keep my feelings a little more locked up with a girl I'm trying to win over. But then I don't think I've ever wanted a woman this bad. _Ever_.

When I glance at her, she's relaxed into her seat; doesn't seem to mind I'm being so blunt.

"Good, then I've got some hold on you. I like that," she says.

I grip my seat, to keep from jacking off in front of her.

Her eyes sweep over me. "Relax, I won't bite, unless you ask me to."

My heart is leaping out of my chest and trying to attach to hers.

"The way you talk," I say, shaking my head and grinning. "It's . . . I've never heard a woman talk like this before."

"I don't have time to beat about the bush. I have needs, and if I want them fulfilled then I have to cut to the chase."

I know she can hear me panting at her. I can't stop myself. The echo in this car is not helping me any.

She arrives to the last spot I directed her to, and my heart plummets. I'll be home soon. My eyes trace over her face, trying to remember every last detail—the way her laugh lines crease, the way her dark hair is stuck against her sculpted cheek bones, the way those luscious lips curve into a sultry smile.

She pulls over to the shoulder and gets out of the car. My hands fist tighter into the seat. It's like my body's refusing to let me leave this spot. Is she kicking me out? I haven't told her the rest of the directions to get to my place. Why'd she stop here?

She comes over to my side, and I have no idea what the hell she's doing. She opens the door and shoves me over. "You drive," she says as she slides into my spot.

I maneuver my way over to her wet seat, warmed from her ass. Yep, my tip is wet, and it has nothing to do with rain.

I suck in my bottom lip and moisten it while I try to regain some semblance of a coherent thought.

When I grip the wheel, I realize she's letting me drive her insanely expensive car. I told her I ride a bike. What the hell?

I turn to her. "You sure? I mean, you don't even know if I have a license."

"I'm sure. This way you can talk to me, and I don't have to wait around for you to get your stiff cock out of your brain and give me directions to your house And if you don't have a license, which you very well might not have, since you're just a kid, I'll teach you to drive. We all have to learn some time." She buckles herself up.

Her words. Shit. It stirs my entire body and pounds my blood straight into my dick.

My arms flex, and my thighs almost throb. I twist my fists on the steering wheel.

"Uuuuhhhhuuuu," I take a deep breath, and grip the wheel tighter. I look over at her and she's smirking at me, waiting for me to make a move.

I shift the gear gingerly and check my blind spot then reposition the mirrors. The car lurches forward the moment I touch the gas.

"Shit! Powerful," I whisper.

"Like me," she teases.

"Yes, like you." I agree completely. Fast, powerful, sexy and straight to the point.

I decide to take the roundabout, scenic route to my place, so I can buy more time with her.

"What do you do Mrs. Black?" I wish I didn't have to call her Mrs. She _is_ single, but that's basically what she said to call her. It makes her sound so unavailable. Is that why she chose to introduce herself that way? Trying to tell me she's not interested and to back off?

"I'm an acupuncturist, an acupressurist and I'm also a licensed massage therapist."

I knew those hands could do some seriously unearthly things to my body. My left leg presses into my right, trying to cut off some of this insane blood flow to my cock. I can't take much more.

"Do you enjoy it?" I ask.

"I love it. I Iove helping people feel better. It's very fulfilling." Her hands go behind her back, and she pulls her wet hair up and over the head rest.

"That's probably why you're so good at it," I reply.

"You have no fucking idea if I'm good at it or not. Don't make assumptions."

I swallow. "I apologize, but I'm good at reading people, and since you love what you do, I can't imagine you not giving it all you've got. You strike me as a passionate person, immersing yourself into whatever you enjoy."

"God, how did you do that?"

"Do _what_?" Did I hit a nerve? How? I toss a questioning look her way.

"You described me to a fault. I'm _very_ passionate, and I'm very focused. If I enjoy something then nothing stands in my way to keep me from delving in."

I pull up in front of my apartment building, and I feel sick inside; a step away from nauseous.

_Stay with me._

I stop the car. "Thank you for the ride. I really enjoyed meeting you." It kills me to say those words, but what else am I supposed to do? Drag my leg over the steering wheel and mount her without another word?

_Yes. You are._

Shit. I look straight ahead out the window, and my apartment several yards away seems like a cave, about to swallow me whole, where I'll never see the light of day again.

"If you want to enjoy meeting me again, since this was so stimulating, I'll be at the Xplore Fitness center tomorrow at eleven. I'm the hot brunette in the middle of the yoga class." She chuckles.

She leans over me and opens my door. Her breasts lightly tickle my thighs as they brush past me.

I close my eyes and try not to snatch at her and kiss her and rub my dick all over her neck and beg her to come inside with me so I can get her naked and sweat all over her while I do dirty things to her. Why does all of that sound so unlike me, yet, exactly what I need?

She turned me into a beast. An unthinking appendage. And dammit, I want more.

"See you around, Cullen," she says silkily.

"Walk me to my door?" I ask. I grab her arm.

"It's still raining," she reminds me.

"You love this weather. I do too." If I'm with _her_ I'd enjoy a fucking tornado.

"Keep your dick in your pants, and your lips to yourself. I'm not into fucking teenagers," she jokes.

"Teenagers don't have their own place," I state. My shoulders square.

She really takes issue with my age. I wish I was older so I could be on a level playing field with her, but I can't help my short existence.

She gets out of the car, opens the trunk and helps me carry my groceries, even though I tried to grab all of them. The thought hits me that if I had been smart, I should have put some of my groceries into her bags so she would've had to come and see me again to sort it out. Oh well, too late now but she did invite me to check her out at her gym . . .

When she drives away, I find myself pasted to my front window.

My dick waves bye before my hand does.

And after my groceries are put away, all I can do is plan for tomorrow.

Yoga? They can make me walk across broken glass, swallow venomous creatures, light my pants on fire—I'll be there.

Most likely with a hard-on.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The Pull**

She's looking at me, eyes tracing me up and down, and she's acting like she's not interested, but I know differently. After that car ride last night . . . She invited me _here_.

I smile.

Why am I so mesmerized by this older woman? I had trouble sleeping last night; couldn't get her out of my head.

What's wrong with me?

She's in front of me this very instant, performing the downward dog pose, and all I wanna do is grab her hips and slam myself inside of her.

Fuck. I shouldn't have come here today. I lick my bottom lip and take on the position.

It's difficult to hold because my head keeps trying to drift in her direction.

The instructor tells us to lift our right leg as high as we can get it. Shit! Her legs are splayed open right in front of my face. I can't stop staring between them. I'm barely staying balanced as I try to keep mine up. Mrs. I'm-not-interested-in-you is staring at me, past her leg that's firmly balancing her on that blue mat. I smile, because even though I've just been caught staring at her ass along with her other glorious body parts, I can't seem to give a fuck.

It's not like she's unaware I'm into her. My cock told her long ago.

She smiles back knowingly—there's a reason I parked myself behind her. I'm not an idiot. I knew where to go to get the best views.

She takes her right hand and lifts her fitted tank top up then uses it to wipe the sweat off her neck. I swear her breasts are trying to break free while she does this.

Shit. They're trying to break _me_. I'm the _one_ sweating.

I have to look away—have to before I embarrass myself and wind up walking around in shorts with a rather large wet spot.

I sweat and shake as my body strains to stay balanced, and as I continue to foolishly torque my head up at an awkward angle to gawk at her gorgeous body. God, she's so shapely and curvy. Is that shape allowed? It's not fair to men.

My fingers claw into my mat as I imagine digging my hands into those tits.

_You can't get with this woman. You're nothin' but a college boy with nothing to offer her except a childish boner; no security, no home, no car. You ride a fucking bike everywhere. Pathetic. She drives a two door Rolls-Royce convertible. Get your dick out of her face and leave._

As soon as I look at her tight ass in her workout outfit, I know I can't leave. Hell, I'll probably buy a membership today, even though I can't afford it.

The teacher moves us into another unnameable position, and my head buzzes. I love watching this woman stretch, bend, and flex her ass at me.

With those legs splayed out, I'd be so deep in her if she'd give me the chance.

I swallow—my mouth's flooding.

"Okay, grab a partner for this next segment," the teacher shouts.

My feet take off before I can consider what to say or do. I don't hesitate for an instant to take those six short steps toward her.

She turns around, waits for me to practically molest her and she gives a quiet giggle when I sit down in front of her.

"Need a partner?" I smirk. "This one's at his peak, and can keep up with you. I think you might be pleasantly surprised."

"I always need a partner." She leans back into a forty five degree angle as she puts her hands behind her gorgeous ass and it pushes her breasts up. "Lower me down." She extends her arms out to me.

I grab her soft, relaxed hands and slowly release her down to the ground, where I want to lower myself down as well, on top of her. To be hovering over her, to touch her. God, please, I can't stop staring at her sexy bod. She looks at me innocently with her dark, brooding eyes.

She closes her eyes; there's so much trust there, and my heart warms.

The instructor says, "Position your partner's legs in diamond pose with their feet touching each other."

I do as she says, and I'm panting as I touch Mrs. Black's long, lean thighs. She's breathing deep, relaxed and almost sedated.

My hands stiffen as I focus on keeping myself under control.

She looks like she's deep in thought with her eyes shut like that.

I stare, and this time it's without her realizing I'm memorizing her stunning features.

"Grasp your partner's hips and push deep with your thumbs." The instructor roams around the room.

I sigh, happy the teacher can't see the way I'm shaking. I'm about to touch this woman so close to where I want to be.

_Don't hurt her . . . Keep your touch appropriate._

"Hhhhhmmmhhh", I breathe deep and try to keep it quiet as I place my feet between her legs. Then I squat down very close to her pelvis and grip her hips carefully. Her body presses into the ground and her breasts rise as I push gently with a slow, steady pressure. Her hips roll out and her pelvis pushes up.

Holy fuck!

I growl. Like some kind of sick predator.

My eyes slide up in my head.

Does she have to smell this good? And is her scent even stronger today?

I open my eyes and wish I hadn't.

She exhales deeply and her breasts push up even further. I could reach out and touch so many of her delicate body parts if I was brave enough. I ignore the teacher's instructions and start kneading with a cat like palm into her hips. Her body moves and rocks lightly from side to side and her breasts are moving in a very pronounced way.

Good thinking. Why don't I lop off my dick now? I'm torturing it to death; might as well.

I have to let out another long steamy breath as I watch her back arch up a little bit with each press of my hands.

"God, that feels good," she moans with an exhale.

She drags her hands slowly across the mat, places them up on my thighs and rests them there.

My legs tighten on contact.

"Let's move into the ribs." The teacher continues to circle slowly around the room.

The instructor doesn't even have to show me what to do. My hands are sliding up Mrs. Black's hips, over her tight waist and up to her ribs, just below her beautiful, round breasts. I push and knead into her ribs and her chest moves even more dramatically with each massaging movement.

"Mmmmhhhhh," she gasps a little sigh of pleasure.

I drop my head; focus on her with an intensity I've never owned before. When I make that move again, her face smoothes but only after a little smile pops onto her lips.

She drops her head over to the side and in a very relaxed state, her lips part and her breathing deepens.

A thrill shoots through me at the thought my hands are doing things to her body. Pleasuring and relaxing her.

"Now, I want you to move to the front of your partner and face them from the top of their head. Lean over and push down into their shoulders. Hold that for five deep inhalations and then slowly push down into the arm pits on the edge of the pecs," the teacher says.

I stay hovering above her waist and decide to take my time to work up to the shoulders. My hands ghost, brushing her shirt then roam up and over her breasts, and I land my firm grip right above her armpits. Her face relaxes even more and she seems to have no visible reaction to my sneaky stroke of her luscious tits.

My chest expands, and I release a stilted breath. I got away with that!

She keeps her eyes closed and drags her hands down my thighs then pulls them down my legs to my ankles. I twitch and hum for a second along with the vibration low in my belly. She grips my ankles hard.

She doesn't feel relaxed at all anymore. In fact she feels like she's strung out.

_Hmm. Am I doing things to her, too? _

I massage her shoulders and slowly stroke down her arms to her wrists.

So warm and soft. Fuck, her skin's like satin.

I look around to see if anybody's looking. Everyone's occupied, so I take my hands, slide them back up to her shoulders and start splaying my hands from the center of her chest, barely below her neck and stroke them out to her upper arms. So close again to touching her where I want to. Those breasts are begging me to caress and acknowledge how beautiful they are.

My tongue would appreciate that opportunity as well.

I decide to move around to her head so I can get a better view of her cleavage. Forget the teacher's instructions.

"Sit down with your legs between your partners head. You're going to massage the neck, brow and scalp." The teacher's gone back to the front and is now busy working on her own partner.

And since the instructor's not paying attention, I lean over and whisper in Mrs. Black's ear, "How does this feel? Do I feel good?"

She nods and bites her lip like she's enjoying my touch a little more than she'd expected.

Heat spreads through my chest, making me bold. I kiss her earlobe lightly and then pull back up.

She exhales a slow hiss, and I tip my head back to get a little distance, some air that's not saturated with her scent.

It doesn't help, because when I go back to kneading her muscles, she moans softly.

Fuck it. If she's gonna moan from _that_, then I'm gonna do whatever the hell I want . . .

I scoop her head up under my left palm and start pulling long sweeps from her upper back to the base of her skull. My face is inches from hers, and I can smell her sweet breath. I'm breathing her in, trying to suck up as much of her flavor that hangs in the air before me since trying to get away from it wasn't working. I can't resist, I lean over and whisper a suggestion, "You can hold onto my legs if you want to."

She goes further and stretches her arms up in a relaxed way and wraps them loosely round my waist. The backs of her arms rest on my thighs. So intimate and sensual. Her head is almost in my groin, her hands are making me feel like my soul is being pulled into her. I stroke up and down her inner arms as I lean my full body weight into each drag. Each slow pull brushes up against her ribs, right next to her breasts. Her back arches more with each sweeping motion and goose bumps are blossoming on various parts of her flesh.

I work my way up through her hair to the top of her head. We're instructed to gently push down into the crown toward the neck, but instead I run my fingers lightly through her hair. I can't help it; long strands of dark, amber silk is brushing through my palms. It's heavenly. I'm supposed to be relaxing her though, and seem to be failing at it, since she's growing tenser. Did I do something wrong? It was only a little _friendly_ touching.

"Okay, time's up. Let's switch!" The teacher sounds almost as pleased as I am to be handled by her partner. Except I have a gorgeous woman who sets my skin on fire when she touches me. I doubt she's experiencing the same as she leads the class.

Mrs. Black brushes her hands up my back and then stretches her arms up and around me.

Shit! My erection's gonna be plain as day if I lie here and let her touch me.

This is going to be anything _but_ relaxing. My gut tightens, and I flex my hands then wipe them on my shorts so they won't be sticky or sweaty.

She leans her head back and looks at me with pleasure. I like that look I see in her eyes. I like that _I _put it there. The guy she says is a kid is receiving a heated look from her.

"You're turn." She wears a devilish smirk.

Oh hell. What was I thinking? She does this for a living. I'm gonna have issues much worse than a hard-on. I'll be lucky if I get through this without using my teeth to strip her out of that red, strappy workout cami she's wearing as she edges closer and closer to me.

"I'm in good hands," I whisper to myself so I can talk myself into doing this. I swallow.

She smiles. Did she overhear me?

"Yes, you _are_. I have hands that can move and change your body," she says.

_Aw fuck—turn over woman. That top comes off now._

I blink slowly, hoping it'll give me a second to think and clear my head while I lie down.

She doesn't wait for the instructor to command us or for me to center myself. Isn't that the damn point of yoga? To be centered and find some zen in this universe?

She moves into position and her small, meek looking hands, dig deep into my muscles with the right amount of pressure. She's touching where the teacher never instructed—my strung out thighs.

I take a deep breath, and my diaphragm spasms while she presses hard and strokes up toward my hips.

She does this to clients? Sign me up. I'll pull a groin muscle today so I can get in to see her at her job.

I grip the sides of my shorts, and she chuckles. She grabs my hands and massages in a very erotic way. I swear the fuckers have a "Come now!" button hidden in the palms, 'cause this shit's insanely hot, and I'm about a moment away from needing to excuse myself to the mens' locker room.

_They're hands, goddammit, get ahold of yourself. Quit being such a horny dick._

She presses harder into my palm.

_Ziiiippppp!_

An electric current pulses and thrums up my wrists, heading straight into my heart, expanding it and strengthening the overwhelming urge I have to kiss her.

"Close your eyes, trust me," she says, brushing her fingertips across my forehead. Her own eyes are bright and her face is framed by her hair, making her look like an angel.

From this viewpoint, with her hovering, my mind wanders to darker places. It's easy to imagine looking up at her in my bed as she straddles me; her body misted with my sweat and other fluids.

"I don't want to," I absentmindedly say as I stare up into her wide, burnished eyes.

Is there some way I can figure out how to keep control of my body in her presence? So far the hormones are winning.

I whip my right hand out of her grip, gently reach my hand up then brush my fingertips up the side of her cheek and straight back into her hair. I feel like I could be her lover when she looks at me with longing as she slowly seals her eyes shut. My heart lurches forward; my arm pushes my hand further back and cups behind her neck as I pull her toward me. I have no idea what I'm doing, but I can't seem to stop.

She's inches above my face—_so_ right there—and when I think I might die if I don't taste those lips or feel them on me, she turns her face into my hand, nuzzles her cheek into my palm. I swear I feel the faint trace of a kiss there on the edge.

My hips buck; it's small, but it happens whether I want it to or not.

"So soft, so smooth," I say to her skin and her hair. I want them to know they're living up to my expectations.

"So strong, so firm," she whispers back and _this _time, there's no mistaking what she does—she deliberately drags her lips up my palm and kisses the inside of my wrist.

I don't want to stop, but the teacher snaps me back to reality as she yells, "On to the ribs. Help your partner to move their spine back into alignment."

My fantasy woman's in my grasp. She opens her eyes, and they now sparkle at me even more. When she moves away from my hand, I growl low and deep in my gut.

I slowly drop my hand down to the ground in defeat. It's not fair we couldn't stay there as long as we needed to. I was getting through to her. It's a damn shame.

She presses into my ribs and rocks back and forth. Her forearms work hard to put pressure into me and the motion creates the most inviting cleavage I've ever seen. My hand feels like it detaches from my body once again, because without my permission, it reaches up toward her. The back of my hand brushes down her delicate neck, straight down the section at the top of her chest and slides off once it reaches her breasts. She smiles at me.

Thank God she's not upset with me for doing that.

"Shoulders and neck," the teacher instructs us to move onto these next body parts to work on.

Mrs. Black slides up and tucks her knees against my ribs then straddles my chest.

Holy fuck! I can smell her pussy; it's inches from my face. I have to close my eyes so I don't see her breasts almost smashed up against my chin as she's leaning forward, using all her body weight to grope my shoulders and the edge of my pecs. Her next move is to push her elbows into my chest. Her breath is in my face; her breasts are piled up on my chest, and I think I've forgotten my name.

It feels like she's riding me and trying to pull me into her; suck me in. I'd be so happy if that was what she wanted to do.

She may never be this close to me again so I open my eyes, and she's staring at my face like she's drinking me in.

I want to touch her silky softy cheek again, but instead I reach around and lightly stroke up her back. She seems content to let my hand wander up her spine.

"Enjoying yourself?" she asks, smirking.

"Are _you_?" I ask, since I know she's very aware I'm taking advantage of her with every touch I sneak.

"I'll let you figure that out," she says, and a grin sticks to her perfect face.

"I think you are," I say. I shift a little on my mat. Is there a way to get closer; touch her more to prove my point?

Her thighs squeeze my waist tight and then she whispers, "How can you tell?"

I can feel the pulse on the inside of her thighs, rushing through her like a fire hose is attached and pumping hard. "Your pulse is racing, you're breathing hard and you're pushing up against me. Doesn't seem like symptoms of dislike to me." I wait for her to argue, but she doesn't.

Instead she slowly releases her elbows, places each hand on my chest and pushes herself away, arching her back.

Her ass is rounded. I wish I had a view from the back.

"I touch client's every day." She reaches up behind her head and twists her hair into a ponytail, using a hair tie she had wrapped around her wrist I hadn't noticed. Who's looking at her wrists when her breasts are being hugged and squeezed tight by her workout clothing?

She wriggles around on me and her tits lightly sway while she takes her time to put her hair tie in. I've got a spectacular view. It's almost like an erotic lap dance. She continues to stare at me as she arranges her hair.

My hips prick; begging me to let them thrust up into her.

I pretend to steady her by placing my hands on her hips. She seems oblivious, or doesn't give a fuck I'm touching her. Either way, I'm happy.

I exhale and grip harder.

"Massage the neck and scalp to finish your partner off," the teacher breaks in.

Mrs. Black slides her right leg off of me in a way that forces my hands to slide down her thighs and back to the ground. She crawls over to my head.

My eyes follow her wherever she goes.

She places my head between her hands, gently lifts it and slides her crossed legs under me. When she cradles my head and peers deeply into my eyes like this, I'm stuck; caught in her gaze. I decide it's only fair if I reach my arms back and wrap them around her waist like she did for me. That's the best way to be caught—to _stay_ there and enjoy it.

"You could seriously use my touch," she says like she's diagnosing me.

_Yes, yes, I could!_ I want to shout. Instead, I bite my tongue and let my head go fuzzy from her hands combing through my hair.

She helps me relax into her further by dragging her fingers down to my shoulders then firmly twisting and kneading her hands up and down my inner biceps. I could fall asleep in her lap if I wasn't so damn turned on.

I stare up at her and I've got a view that's killer. All curves and movement as she massages and manipulates my muscles and flesh.

"Hhhhssssss," she has a guttural hiss issuing out of her as she leans her torso into me and splays her hands down my neck and shoulders. Her breasts push up into my crown. Her expression is a combination of being sated, pleasured, and relaxed.

I'd like to add post-orgasmic to it.

"I'm going to push on some pressure points, is that okay?" she asks me.

"Yes, you can do whatever you like to me." Including wrapping your legs around my body again and rubbing that ass on my dick.

"I want you to breathe deep and very slowly. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, I can." I want to do whatever she wants, and she knows what she's doing, so I trust her. If she's pleased then I'm ecstatic. I close my eyes so I can soak up her touch without being distracted by watching her body.

Her fingers probe the sides of my chest and along my collar bone while I concentrate on breathing at all. They feel like they're walking their way into my heart. She slowly circles her fingers, and I'm losing some of the pressure built up from the thick, unyielding sexual tension that's been swirling around us. This feels nice.

But I'm still hard.

She squeezes down my arms, and it releases even more pent up energy. This woman really knows what she's doing. God, . . . her expert hands are hitting my body hard; forcing it to relax whether I want it to or not.

I wish I could force her to feel something as well.

She slides her hands down to my palms and lets the left one stay on the ground, resting at my side. She takes my right hand and pulls it up to her lips. I jump a little as she lightly sucks on my index finger, sliding her tongue up and down.

Oh, Jesus. There's no way I can avoid imagining her sucking on another, much bigger appendage of mine . . .

My balls tighten until she pulls my finger out of her mouth and uses the lubrication to slip and slide her own fingers over mine. She pulls down the length of my finger repeatedly. She keeps it going, doing it again with each of my fingers. It's a slow process, but it's bringing me down to a manageable, controllable hormone level. Even though it's exciting, it somehow calms me.

It makes no sense at all. Kind of like me, chasing after an older woman that says she doesn't want me, yet sucks my fingers and touches me in a way that makes me want to pin her down and fuck her 'til I can't do it anymore.

She pats my shoulder to bring me back to life, and as I drift back and open my eyes, I see the class ambling about and packing up their gear.

My heart clenches. I want to stay here with her. How was that an hour class? Felt more like ten minutes.

I reach up and graze my left fingers across her left cheek and whisper, "Thank you, that was amazing." I sigh. I fucking sigh like a woman about to swoon.

Shit. I _am_ a woman, begging her with my eyes to stay and give me five more minutes.

The teacher hollers in a panicked voice, "Oh, I forgot to announce that this relaxation partner exercise was a preview of a new class I'm starting next week: Partner Yoga. Please look for the sign-up sheet in the hallway if you'd like to take the course."

My body is begging me to figure out a way to take this class with her, but there's no way I can afford it.

I was pushing it today already by paying for this visit to the gym.

Before I can head out to the hallway, Mrs. Black stops me. "Interested? I'll be your partner if you want."

"I wanted to ask you the same thing."

She lightly pulls my hair at the nape in a playful way.

"You could be my son," she reminds herself.

Hope fills my chest—because why else would she be saying this if she wasn't actually interested in me?

I smile. And damn if I can't let that comment go without convincing her there's not that big of an age gap. "No you couldn't. I'm twenty."

"God, you're a kid. I'm about to turn thirty six."

Shit! She _could_ be my mother if she'd gotten pregnant around sixteen.

My eyes widen in alarm by the thought, but then she leans over to get her mat, I get an eyeful of her cleavage, and I really don't care how old she is.

I grab her hand the moment she stands back up. She looks me in the eyes, and I say, "Does it matter, _really_?"

She releases a breath. "No, unless the cops come after me for robbing you of your virtue." She steps away from me, but keeps her hand in mine.

"I'm not that inexperienced." I've been with a few girls., though I'm no expert, and I'd be fine with her teaching me whatever she wants. "What are you doing after you leave the gym?" I pop an eyebrow at her and caress the back of her hand with my thumb.

"I'm going surfing with my ex-husband," she says like it's not a big deal to be wet in a bikini with the idiot that divorced her.

_Well, sounds like I'll be stalking you at the beach then . . ._

I've got to see her body in action, riding the waves, if my dick can handle it and behave. I need to do my homework as well and see what kind of guy she's attracted to or was willing to marry at one point.

"Which beach?" I put on an act like it's all innocent curiosity.

"Westport. Why? You wanna come?"

My brow crinkles, and my mouth hangs open. Is she messing with me? "Won't that make your ex mad?"

"He doesn't care. He divorced _me_," she says, sounding frustrated.

"What an idiot," I whisper. He must be blind and dickless too.

She heard me again and smiles as she brushes her hair off of her shoulder.

My face heats. I let go of her hand, because I feel like a tool when I realize I have to ask her for something . . . "I don't have a car though," I remind her. "No way to get there."

"You can ride with me." She offers a kind smile.

"I don't have a swimsuit either," I inform her. Could I be more pathetic? Maybe if I was homeless . . .

"I'll buy you one at a shop by the beach." She grabs my hand, yanks me out of the room and over to the sign-up sheet in the hall for the partner yoga class.

The information says it's one-hundred and eighty bucks for a twelve week class. My face drops. I don't have the money for that.

She pulls me next to her, and I'm almost spooning her ass. My eyes go wide. Damn.

I _will_ find a way to pay for this class, if it means that I get to be touching her like I did today for twelve weeks, I'll get a part time job if I have to.

She signs up, and I get to see what her first name is. Good. I'm sick of calling her Mrs. Black. It shreds my gut each time I say or think the word Mrs. in regards to her.

"Bella," I say with a rasp in my voice. The word seems to pool low in my core. "Nice name. I like it."

She smiles pleasantly at me and hands me the pen. I fill out my information, my name and phone number. I quickly try to memorize her phone number as I take a glance.

Four, two, five, three, three, five, nine, one, five, five. I repeat it over and over again in my mind so it'll stick.

She turns around and traces a fingertip along my brow then traces a line down to the right edge of my mouth. I didn't even realize I was furrowing it and frowning. "The class is on me, Edward. Stop worrying."

She said my name and ohhhh—I'll never be flaccid again. I've stopped breathing.

Until I replay it all in my head and realize she said a few other things I didn't like as much.

Did she really _say _that? She's _paying_?

I don't think so!

**A/N:**

**There you go. It's all about the yoga. That's all ya gotta do and a young Edward will hunt you down. Oh, and wear a thong at the grocery store when it's raining, and prance around in white little hotty hot shorts. Got it? **

**Good. Let's move along then…**

**Leaving now to try this all out. Wish me luck!**

**Chanse**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: When a Bastard is Calling . . . **

"This looks good on you," Isabella says, eying me like I'm a naked piece of man candy.

I turn around to give her a glimpse of my backside. When I look over my shoulder, she's smirking at me.

"I'll pay you back." I smile and tighten the drawstring on my new swim trunks she's going to purchase for me. I pull them out a little further than I need to, and I glance out of the corner of my eye to get her reaction.

She leans toward me.

Oh fuck. Is _she_ . . . ? She _is_. She's definitely trying to see what I've got inside these trunks.

A light flutter runs down the back of my neck and then speeds up until it floods my gut and makes my stomach flip.

_Fuck. Do it again. Make her try to take another peek. Tug your shorts away from your abs._

"As soon as I can, I'll make sure to give you the cash for this." My stomach tries to invert as I think about having another reason to see her again—even if it is to give her money I don't have.

"Why don't you consider it a gift?" she replies. She grabs her vibrating phone out of her purse. One of her hips shifts toward me, and even that little movement gets to me.

God, is there any portion of this woman I don't want to touch, suck and rub myself on?

She answers her phone while she walks over to me and yanks the price tag off my shorts. That little yank makes me whimper as it tugs across my cock.

She moves to the cashier counter, keeping a smooth stride as she starts her conversation.

"I'll be there shortly. I needed to make a pit stop." She sounds flustered and unsure of herself. I've never heard her like this.

My arms tighten as I set my hands on my hips.

She's listening intently to whoever she's talking to.

"I am _not_ always late . . . We're just going surfing. Quit being such an ass." She pulls out her credit card and smiles politely as she hands it to the cashier, and I can see the effort it takes for her to stay calm.

Whoever this fucker is she's talking to, they've got her all scattered and upset.

My hands ache to reach out and stroke her hair, to comfort her.

"I said it wouldn't happen again, and I meant it," she says in the phone.

Who is this idiot trying to upset her? An ass is right. I want to strangle this person.

My jaw clenches tight.

Bella whispers for a moment to the sales clerk and points at a large yellow and red striped surf board. He leaves the counter, pulls it down and brings it back over to her. She grabs a jar of surfboard wax and puts that on the counter along with the price tag for my shorts.

Is she buying this stuff for me? I hope not. I can't pay her back for all this. If I'd known we were going to be surfing today, I would've had my best friend, Emmett, bring me his so I could borrow it.

I slip on my flips flops and watch as she goes about her business, acting like nothing is going on around her, or more accurately, like I'm not standing behind her.

A cold fat feeling of nasty jealousy, sits hard and uncomfortably on my chest.

I reach out and rest a hand on her shoulder.

Either she ignores it or she's oblivious, because she fails to react at all.

"Shut up!" she's laughing now like some funny joke has been spilled on the other end of the phone line.

My brow scrunches, and I slip my hand inside of hers.

She looks at me slightly puzzled but mostly pleasantly surprised. When her eyes soften, I think I might need to drag her with me to a spot where we can be alone, 'cause that shit's getting to me.

I pull our entwined fist to my mouth and kiss the back of her hand. Her eyes light up with a look of adoration.

She winks at me.

_Please hang up!_

My eyes shine at her, willing her to give me all her attention.

She finally says, "I need to go. I've got some things I need to do. I'll see you in a few." She pays for the items with her card but keeps hold of my hand the entire time.

Shit! She was talking to her ex? How did I miss that?

_You know why . . . You were too busy gaping at her to pay close enough attention at the beginning of her conversation to figure it out. Plus, you kept hoping she'd look at you in your shorts and like what she sees._

"Prick!" she whispers at her phone as she puts it back in her purse. She tries to wipe away the hurt look on her face. "Are you hungry?" She turns to me.

"A little." Aw, crap. Another thing to pay for. I have a few bucks and some loose change. I paid cash for that yoga class, and I left my credit card at home since I didn't think I would need it at the gym.

My feet shuffle as I consider how I'm gonna get away with this lunch date without looking like the biggest pathetic loser ever.

"My treat, come on." She drags me toward the door. "We'll come back for the rest of this stuff in a few moments," she tells the sale clerk.

As we step out onto the sidewalk and the bright sunlight streams down on us, I take a moment to step off to the side and figure out what the hell is going on here.

"I know you're made of money, but could we just slow down for a second," I say, feeling a little deflated.

"If you can't handle the fact I've got money, then we can't be together," she replies. She cups my cheek and gives me an understanding look.

_Together? Like a couple?_

"Wait! God . . . you go a hundred miles-an-hour. I don't care that you've got money, but I . . . you're not giving me a chance to give any input on anything, and you're throwing your cash around all over the place. Frankly, it's intimidating, since I'm just a poor college kid."

"I knew this was a bad idea," she says. She drops her head, rolls her eyes and turns away from me.

I grab her by the arms. Her head jolts up, and I seal my lips to hers. When I pull her into me and start slowly parting her luxuriously soft lips so I can slip my tongue inside, she breathes a slight moan and melts into me for a second.

I tighten my hold on her and slide my hands up into her hair. She picks up the intensity, kissing me hard; her hands claw at my back and she's almost climbing my body.

My thighs coil tight and before I can find some way to get her even closer, she pushes me down to the grass and gets on top of me.

Holy shit! My eyes fly open, and my breath catches in my throat.

"Here," she says as she pulls a condom out of her purse and hands it to me.

My hips jerk, and I think my stomach's dissolved, 'cause my dick's taken over all the space from my belly button down to the tops of my thighs.

I look at her with a mixture of explosive desire and total shock.

What changed? Why would she want _me_?

I grip her hips, and my eyes flick over to the condom. Is she serious?

She wants this?

Her phone starts vibrating around in her purse. She rolls off me and snags it out, in a fowl temper. "What?" she snaps into her phone.

I sit up, smirking at her. I might have a chance with this woman after all.

While she's distracted on the phone again, I lightly finger through her hair.

She smiles and playfully swats my hands away behind her.

I bite my bottom lip, scoot closer, kneel behind her and start kissing the back of her neck. She leans her head to the side, giving me a runway to coast over. I cover it with smooth, moist kisses. She closes her eyes, emits a low hum and listens to whoever is talking to her on the phone.

"I said, we'll be there soon. We're just getting some lunch."

I growl. She's talking to her ex again and telling him she's with someone?

This bastard needs to figure out he already lost by giving her up.

I drag my hands down her shoulders and hope she tells him I'm her boyfriend. When she fights off a shiver, I move aside the strap to her tank top and plant a kiss there.

She rolls her shoulder and stretches her head a little, like she's fighting off her reactions to me.

I massage her lower back; continue sucking and lightly tonguing her graceful neck. She tastes salty from the yoga induced sweat, but she smells amazing—all pheromones and estrogen; strong aphrodisiac.

A roll of pleasure moves through me.

"It's somebody I'm seeing. He's going to surf with us." She sighs, and I'm not sure if it's because she's pissed at something he's said to her, or if it's because I've helped relax her.

She turns to me and kisses me for a moment.

Her ex can hear it on the other end of the line—I'm sure of it, because that was a loud smack.

My fingers move faster, massaging the front of her neck, her collar bones and her upper arms.

She pulls me to straddling on top of her.

My heart speeds up.

She pulls her phone away for a second and drags her cami off, leaving her in nothing but her sports bra and workout pants. Her cleavage is glaring at me.

My inner thighs squeeze into her as I twitch.

I'm not sure if she'll let me kiss the tops of her breasts, so instead I hint around with my hands that I want to touch her there. I use a light, almost tickly touch and she arches her head back in pleasure. It makes her breasts heave up at me more. I snake my arms around her waist and kiss up and down her neck, then just below her collar bone.

My breaths pound out of me, moistening her skin almost as much as my tongue.

Each time she exhales, her stomach spasms, and I want to bite my way through the remaining clothes on her body.

"Yes, he knows how to surf," she says, when in actuality, she has no idea if I have any skill whatsoever. We never discussed it.

Her dark hair spread out in the grass, looks incredibly sexy.

I moisten my bottom lip, and press my stomach to hers.

Somebody passes by on the sidewalk, but we're in the shade of a big tree, outside the little beach side shop, so we're hardly noticeable.

If she's gonna talk, then I'm gonna grope. I don't care if she wants me there or not, I spread her legs with mine and lower my hips into her. One of her hands grips my shoulder, hanging onto me. I grab at her ribs, continue to nip at her neck and grind a little.

She silently giggles at me like I'm a nutjob.

"What?" I whisper and start laughing too.

I _am_ acting like a horny, bratty adolescent. It's fun.

I shrug. Fuck conventional behavior. She's here with me and she's hot, and I've got no reason to stop.

"Touch me there," she mouths. She shoves one of my hands back onto her hip.

"Okay," I say, my voice filled with excitement.

"He's sharing a surf board with me. I bought a new one in that little shop we like on Ellis Street. It looks like it should work for my needs . . . I told you I lost the old one." Her voice is tight, and it sounds like she's lying to this man.

Why would she do that? She always seems so straight forward and honest with _me_.

"Hang up," I tell her since my erection can't take anymore of her not touching me back.

"Just a sec," she mouths at me.

I shove my hips hard into her.

She pats my leg.

I lean over and bite the curve of her shoulder. She squirms away from my teeth and has to stifle her giggles.

I'm having so much fun with this woman. I can imagine how much more fun I'd have if she'd let me take her home to my place.

"God, come on, I'm _dying_ over here," I say.

I snatch at her phone, but she dodges my hand.

"I'm talking to this jerk," she tells me as she covers the speaker end of the phone. "Give me a few more minutes, and then I'll give you my full attention."

She goes back to her conversation, and I go back to touching her. To be as obnoxious as possible, I shove my hand up the back of her sports bra.

"Go easy on him. I'm always nice to your dates," she warns him.

I sit up and straddle her waist as I flex my muscles. She reaches up and gropes my chest as I pretend to be the big man so I can make her laugh. I puff up my cheeks. She runs her fingers through my chest hair and her eyes widen in delight. Her lips part and her breathing picks up.

"I love a hairy chest," she whispers to me ever so quietly.

God, I want to rip that damn phone out of her hand and force her to love me now!

"Well, if you'd get off the phone we could go get our lunch and we'd meet you that much sooner," she complains to him.

"Yes, get off the phone, stupid fucker," I mutter to him.

"'Kay, bye!" she responds to him with a curt tone. "Such an ass!" She shakes her head at her phone, drops it in the grass and her arms flop down, then spread out, lax.

"What? What did he _say_?" I am curious as to why she spent so much time talking to him on the phone if she hates him so much, and why does he call her every five minutes? She seemed kind of into him for some of the conversation. I even got a flirty vibe from her. Maybe she talks to all men that way?

A stab of cold fury hits my gut.

"Nothing. He talks a lot, and he gets mad if I don't answer my phone."

"Don't answer it next time you're with me." I rub my hands on her arms.

"I _have_ to answer it," she says, rolling her eyes at me like I'm too juvenile to get it.

"No. You don't." I keep my hands still on her, infusing my warmth into her cooling skin.

"You're not my husband, you can't tell me what to do." She pushes me off her and stands up. A second later, she grabs her cami then slips it back on and grasps her bag.

"I know I'm not, but it's common courtesy when you're on a date, you don't ignore the man you're with to talk to another one."

"And it's common courtesy to not fuck the woman into the ground while she's on the phone. Besides . . . This isn't a date. You tagged along because I wanted you to."

"Why did you want me here if this isn't a date?"

"I like you."

"_And_?" I ask, certain there's more to the story than she's telling me.

"And _nothing_. I don't really date. I sleep around sometimes, because I have needs, but I don't want a relationship. So if that's what you're looking for, then you should probably leave now."

My eyes go wide and my throat closes up on me. "That's not what I've heard. The rumor is you date all the time," I tease.

She chuckles, going along with my lame joke. "Wow, people are that nice to me?" She squeezes one of my biceps. "I don't date, Edward. I don't like dating. I don't want love; I don't want a boyfriend. It's not for me. I tried going the married route, and it didn't work out. I merely want to pleasure myself with a man when I need it. Unfortunately most men want more from me than that, and I'm not prepared to give more." She looks at me like she's waiting for me to freak out and rage at her.

"Do you want _me_ to pleasure you?" Maybe if she lets me between her thighs, I could get my fill of her and move on like she's asking me to do. I sure as fuck need something, 'cause I can't get her out of my head.

"You _know_ that's what I want from you. Why else would I even be talking to you? What would I want with a twenty-year-old? You probably don't even know what a G-spot is. I'm sure I'm wasting my time, but I've had quite a dry spell lately, so I suppose I can teach you how to use your hands and cock properly. Maybe someday a younger, hotter version of me will thank me for teaching you the art of making love when you've taken her and fucked her properly."

"There's nobody hotter than you no matter how much younger they are," I state. "I want you, and not because I want to be your little project, but because there's something between us," I motion at her and then myself, "even if you can't see or feel it. It's not a big deal to me—the age difference."

"Ppfff," she snorts. "The college girls must be slacking off lately. I _knowyou_ can get a date. You're gorgeous. I look like a freaking idiot on your arm. _Way_ to old . . ."

She mumbles something else about her age again and turns her head away from me.

"You're beautiful, and I don't care about any of the girls at school. I've tried that. They don't work for me. _You're_ the one I can't stop thinking about." I set my hands on her waist and caress right at the edge of her ribs. She cringes. "I mean it—your so beautiful, Isabella."

She squirms and actually blushes when I say she's beautiful.

"I am _not_, don't say that." She sounds sad and reflective.

"You are _too_. I'm gonna say it to you all the time. Apparently you don't get told this enough." I try to snatch at her, right as she's pulling away.

"Wait . . ." I say.

But she's already walking away. "Let's get something to eat . . ."

I catch up to her easily, and slip her phone into her purse, since she'd left it behind with me on the grass.

"You know you want me," I whisper playfully into her ear as I lean into her shoulder while we're walking. "You already said you did. Stop fighting it. I'll be good for you."

"I _do_ for some sick reason. I can't seem to help wanting you. And you're a fucking zygote for Christ's sake!" She smiles.

"And I _do_ know what a G-spot is." I have no idea what it feels like since I've never touched one before, but she doesn't need to know that. I've read about it, fairly recently actually, and I'm certain I could find hers quickly since I tend to catch on fast with anything to do with my hands.

"We'll see," she says, sounding unconvinced. "Burgers?"

"Sure, I'm not picky." I set my hand on her lower back.

She leads us over to a little burger-stand.

"What do you want?" she asks, flicking her head at the menu.

"I don't care. Whatever you're having. I smile back sweetly, hoping I can change her surly mood.

"We'll have two teriyaki burgers, and can you add the sautéed mushrooms? Two fries and two beers, thanks," she tells the cashier.

I wince.

She turns around and looks at me. "Oh great! I forgot. You're not even legal drinking age! God, this is a mess . . ." She turns back to the cashier and says, "Cancel one of the beers, and give me a Coke instead."

She's going to drink without me? What the hell?

She pays, then leans into the wall and says to me, "I'm sorry, I need a beer."

"Because I made you mad?" I don't even know what the hell I did to get her all pissed off. I scuff my flip flop on the ground, dip my head down and look up at her through my lashes.

"No—I told you . . . I like you. You're a sweet kid. I doubt you could ever make me mad. Sorry if I'm being a moody bitch. It has nothing to do with you."

"Then what's going on?"

She inhales deeply. "It's because I've gotta see that asshole in the next half hour." She looks off in the distance, past my shoulder and her eyes narrow.

"Why do you see him if you hate him so much? I don't get it."

"We have an arrangement. I meet him once a week during the day so we can do something together. He picks what we do, and I go along for the ride. I'm keeping the peace."

My gut tightens and drops. "So you go on dates once a week with him? This is seriously fucked up." I step closer to her and rub her right earlobe between my thumb and index finger.

She looks at me with the softest, most pleading look possible. "I know it is. Don't ask. It's a long story, and I don't want to share it."

"You could ditch him. Come with me. We'll go do something else." I can think of a million things I'd love to do with her.

"I can't. All hell would break loose if I didn't show up. He's going to be pissed enough as it is that I'm showing up late."

"God, he sounds like an absolute dick. Why did you ever marry this guy?" I drop my hand to my side.

She itches her ear I was touching, by rubbing it on her shoulder. "Because I loved him," she says matter-of-factly.

My heart sinks; she sounds so sad. I get the feeling there are still feelings there, and it's part of the reason she's hurt so easily by this jack ass. I want to protect her; shield her from this monster.

"Okay," I say softly.

I square my shoulders. That's my purpose today; why she needed me to tag along. Has to be. She wants my protection, and she knew I cared about her, so she probably thought I'd be okay taking on this role.

I stretch my wrists and flex my fingers. I'll tear his ass inside out if he even thinks about hurting her today when I'm with her.

She waits for the food at the counter, leans back up against the edge and her hip is pushed out, making her ass call out to me.

I look away.

I can control myself. I have to. She doesn't want me all over her.

"Why don't I feed you, and after that, if you want me to take you home and skip the surfing . . ." she trails off.

I step closer to her and tickle lightly up and down her back with my fingertips.

"You have great hands," she says. She leans her head to the side like she's exhausted.

"Not as good as yours; I probably owe you money for the fabulous massage you gave me in class today," I say. I reach for her closest hand and kiss it.

She smiles. "So damn sweet. You've gotta tell me—do all the young girls fall for you when you talk to them this way?"

"Why? Are _you_?" I give a lopsided grin.

"You think you're smooth, don't you?" Her stomach bounces from a silent chuckle.

"No, I only know I love touching you and your beautiful skin. I can't get enough of it."

"Touching is one thing; I can handle that, but if you're going to start getting all gooey on me, then . . ."

"Then _what_? You won't show me that condom again? Can't a guy tell a woman he thinks her skin is beautiful without being punished for it?" I lightly dance my fingertips up and down her wrist.

"I'm not used to being touched like this in public," she says.

"Really? Didn't your husband used to do this kind of thing?"

"No, he was too busy screwing around behind my back," she says, sounding upset again.

My teeth clench together.

She reaches out and rubs her thumb on my temple, making me release my taut jaw.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm not _him_, and I'd never do that to you. I want to touch you every second I'm around you. Is it okay if I do that?"

"I guess. I don't know. I'm . . . not sure."

"Well, why don't you try me out and see if I fit?" I sidle up to her and drag my hand in a diagonal across her back until I reach her hip and then I settle my hand there.

"You're the sweetest kid, but you sure are horny." She turns away from me to see if our food is done yet.

"I'm not horny, I'm aroused by you and your aura. It's different." I blow across the tops of her shoulders while she's got her back turned to me.

"How is that different?" she asks, shifting toward me, her eyebrows raised.

I grin. "Do you consider yourself horny since you said you sleep around?"

"No, I'm passionate, sensual, and I can control myself when I need to."

"I can control myself too if I really want to. I already told you I want you though, so why should I pretend now that I don't? You can control yourself all you like. I choose not to. Why should I?" I bump my foot into the wall and bounce my heel off it.

"Common decency."

"Fuck that. I don't care about rules when I've got you here with me. I love touching you; I've never felt anything like it before, and everybody else can go hang for all I care."

"Well, it should be interesting to see what Jake makes of you and your wandering hands," she muses.

"You said he wasn't jealous." I settle an arm on her shoulder and lean into her.

"He's not. He doesn't care about who I sleep with. It's not usually right under his nose though, so who knows what he'll say or do."

"We're not sleeping together," I remind her. "Why don't we change that before we see him? Then we can really see what he'll do when you smell like me with your hair all disheveled." I wiggle my eyebrows.

She snorts.

Our food is handed to us, and she waits for me to follow her over to a covered patio table.

"Come on. It's bad enough I'm pretending this is okay—spending some time with you. You've already been touching and kissing me today, and anybody that sees us together has to assume you're my lover. I'm sure he'll think the same regardless of how restrained I've been so far with you."

"That's fine with me. Are you okay with it?"

We both take a seat.

"I don't care. It doesn't matter to me what people think. I'm just trying not to hurt you and give you false hope when we can't be together." She takes a bite of her food.

I set my palms on the table, gaze at her and sigh. "Look, I'm not a kid. I know I'm not way experienced; I've only been with four girls, and it wasn't earth shattering for them or me. But we both know—if you give me a chance, it'll be amazing. You can feel it, can't you? When I touch you? There's this electric charge between us, and nothing else seems to matter when you're in my arms. Let me try to please you, Isabella. I . . . I'll be a good man for you."

She slides over next to me, kisses me like I'm being ignorant and foolish, yet she finds it endearing. Her hand cups the back of my head and she chuckles through the kiss.

When she lets go, she beams at me.

"Here," she says as she shoves the food at me. "Eat. Stop making me wish I could take you home right now. Behave, and we can enjoy the rest of the afternoon without me taking you over my knee so you'll learn to stop talking back to your elders."

"Are you always this aggressive?" I joke as I slip a finger under her strap and run it back and forth.

"No, but since I'm now a mother figure to you," she pulls my finger away and rests my hand in my lap, giving me a mock, reprimanding look, "and nothing more, I figured you'd like it best if I give you structure and guidelines. You need it."

"You better be joking with me, MILF."

She grabs her drink and takes a sip. "I don't want to date, I already told you that. How do you think this is going to end if I fuck you, when I don't want love? It would break you. You're such a sweetheart, and I sure as hell don't want to be anybody's mom, least of all yours. So, this conversation's over."

"No it's not." I take her hand in mine. "Why wouldn't you want to take charge of me? Let's start there, 'cause that's a very interesting topic of conversation . . ." I grin with mischief in my eyes. "Or go back to that bit about you taking me over your knee. That sounds like a lesson I wanna sign up for."

She laughs. "My God—you're too mischievous and naughty. I don't have time to train you up properly and discipline you." She looks around like she's nervous somebody's hearing us. When her gaze returns to me, her eyes sparkle at me. She takes another sip of her drink.

I exhale sharply. "Speaking of naughty," I push my hands through my hair, "where's your bikini and where are you going to change at?"

"I'll change in the car."

"For somebody that doesn't want a younger guy in her pants, that doesn't seem like a very private place for dressing. Any teenage dick walking by'll be able to see you." I frown. "Why don't I hold up a towel around you instead?" I finger the lid of my cup as I leer at her.

She dips her fry in ketchup and says, "We'll see . . ."

"And we can fuck afterward. Sound good?"

"We'll see . . ." She chuckles, leans back and throws a fry at me.

I catch it in my mouth and chew through a goofy grin. "Yeah, I _will_ see."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Swimming with the Sharks**

"God, you're so damn cute, and I'm clearly deranged," Bella says with a sharp, desirous glare in her eyes. Why is she so annoyed she's attracted to me?

"Thank you." I smile back. "That's how you take a compliment when somebody tells you they like the way you look. Now, let's practice. I'll say you're beautiful, and you purse your gorgeous lips together and say thank you. Got it?"

"And _then_ we fuck?" she mocks me.

I nod and grin.

"Shut up!" She laughs at me and throws another French fry in my direction.

Of course I manage to land that one in my mouth too. "Anytime you wanna throw your tits toward my mouth, feel free . . . I'll catch those babies too."

She growls. "Sorry, gravity may have taken its toll, but they're not that saggy," she teases.

"Fuck me if they're saggy at all, woman. They caught _my_ attention." I reach out like I'm gonna cup them.

"Stop it. Quit messing around like that. I'm too old." She wipes a happy tear out of her eye.

"Too old for what? You already told me you fuck around sometimes." I point at my crotch. "Dick right here at your service. You don't have to troll, and you don't have to seduce."

"Wasn't that line used in _Pretty Woman_?" Another fry's lobbed my way.

Her aim's good, and my catching's better. I motion for her to toss another one.

"I never saw that movie," I say between chewing the food.

"You probably haven't seen half the movies I love. At least I can say they were talkies and some of them were in color," she replies, faking a bow at the end.

"If they've got skin in them, I'm sure I've seen them."

She pops an eyebrow up.

"Nah, I'm just teasing. I'm not into porn."

"I thought you said you had a dick." She wipes her fingers on a napkin.

"I do. Wanna see it? I'm quite fond of it." I shove my hand down my trunks, pretending I'm gonna yank it out.

"No thanks. We need to get going. Maybe another time."

"Yeah, like when we fuck after? You can see it then."

She gives a playful smack to my cheek, leans forward and kisses the corner of my mouth. "Give up, Son. It's not gonna happen."

"What if I get a full ride scholarship? As a motherly figure, wouldn't that make you wild with pride, and make you wanna reward me? All I'm asking is an hour."

She moves like she's about to get up, so I swing my legs out and help her stand.

"Manners too? Well, how quaint," she says, using a falsetto voice.

"Yep, it's potty trained too. See? I told you I'd be good for you. I put the toilet lid down and everything." I pat my chest.

"Fuck . . . You don't give up, do you?" She looks at me like I can't be serious, glances away, then throws her eyes back over at me and smirks.

"Still here. Still wanna fuck?" I extend my hand out to her.

"No. I never said I wanted to."

"Yes, you did. You tried to check me out in the store. I saw you." I shift my hips back and forth a little, settling into my stance.

"So, what if I did? Doesn't mean I'm stupid."

"No, you're beautiful and smart, and I'm sure you're amazing in bed. Prove to me you're all those things." I cock my head at her.

She steps toward me, squeezes my cheeks together, making me pucker like a fish then she kisses me hard and pulls away.

"Stop. It. You are not gettin' in. No more talk of spanking, fucking or checking out your dick. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am." My eyes drift down to her breasts.

She turns away and giggles. "Such a perv . . ."

"Well, quit being so hot."

"I never started," she says, and brushes her hair over her shoulder. "I think I need more food to throw at your dirty mouth, to keep it busy."

"I'll take anything _you _give me, in my mouth. And I can do a lot more than swallow," I say.

"I doubt it." She starts walking back to the shop so we can get the stuff she bought.

"You don't think I could please you in the bedroom?" I grip her shoulder to stop her from walking away.

She turns and her eyes are skeptical as she appraises me. "No, I don't. I've been with very experienced men, and you're too young to know much about how to pleasure a woman. It's not like when you yank off. There are a lot of hidden pleasure spots a woman has, and some men don't ever bother to learn about them. Fumbling around in bed isn't sexy. It's a bad joke. Most men, and especially ones your age, don't know what they're doing."

"I think you should try me on for size," I challenge again. "If you don't like what I do, you can always teach me and show me what you like."

"Oh, can I?" She bats her eyes purposefully at me.

I grab her to my chest and say, "You seemed to like the way I was touching you before." I lightly stroke her neck. "I know you feel this. I know you can feel what you do to me. You think I wouldn't do every fucking thing in my power to pleasure you?" I kiss her, and it's slow and passionate, and tingles spread through my entire body the second her lush, velvet tongue slides against mine. I can barely breathe, it's so good.

When I let go, she takes a breath and says, "I didn't say you couldn't kiss. You've got that one down; I'll give you that one."

"Thank you," I reply and smile. "If I can kiss your mouth in a way you like, then I can kiss other parts of your body in a way I think you'll like as well. I'll make sure my kissing will translate over to other areas in the bedroom."

She blinks slowly. "Edward," she pushes me away and runs her hand down her shirt, straightening it out, "just because you know what to do with your mouth, doesn't mean you know shit about sexual positions, how to control your cock and keep from coming so you can get me there first. Who knows if you're any good with your hands either. You massage great in yoga, but in the bedroom you're probably all rough and rushed. I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be a bitch, but I don't see the point of this. I don't mess around when I'm fucking—I don't have time for that."

I gently place my hands on either side of her face. "I would never rush you. It's not in me to be rough either. I would be gentle and unhurried. I'd take my time and make sure you got there every time before I got mine. What about that doesn't sound good to you?"

Fuck. I shift my legs from side to side. I'm so hard, it's rubbing into the shitty drawstrings on my swim shorts.

She breathes heavy and peers into my eyes. "Stop that," she says as she brushes my hands off of her. She starts to leave once more. "This isn't funny anymore." She stares at the ground as she walks; her head down.

"Stop _what_?" I ask as I chase after her. "You said I don't make you mad, so what's the problem?"

"Stop looking at me like that and talking to me like you care about me. I don't want that. I may choose to give you a chance in the bedroom later, because you obviously want this, but that's all I want from you, nothing more. It's only fucking. Make sure you understand that. I'm not in love with you—I barely know you."

I nod and smile, because she's lying. I know she wants more; I can feel it. "I'll make sure no other men hear you say this—then I'll have all sorts of competition. I thought fuck buddies was against the code of womanhood."

"I forgot to take the pledge in that club," she says.

I put my hand on her lower back. "The club that taught you how to spank men?" I raise my eyebrows at her.

She fakes a glare.

I throw my palms up at her, in surrender. "Just curious . . . Wanted to get your credentials is all."

She barks a laugh. "Oh, surfing with you's gonna be a hoot."

"Are you trying to sound old on purpose? Now," I shake my head, laughing, "that's just not right."

"It's right if it helps you remember I'll be wearing Depends in a few years and needing a cane when I break my hip from me trying to rush you when you say, 'Hey, old woman, wanna fuck?' You're not good for me, little one. You're very, very bad for this old lady." She reaches behind her, grabs my hand on her back and intertwines her fingers with mine.

"_Little_?" I cringe. "Do I need to get it out so you won't call me that?" I wiggle my fingers.

"No. I can see it's monstrous from the outline of your shorts. I was referring to your age."

I pretend to check my watch I'm not wearing. "Time to get changed?"

"Yeah, you can look if you want. Maybe it'll help you open your eyes and realize what you're after, doesn't exist," she says sounding convinced I'll be turned off when I see her naked.

I can't even imagine not being completely turned on in every way. She doesn't seem to know how smoking hot she is.

I lean back and check out her ass. "They're open, woman. I see you. And unless you've got something propping those cheeks up like some serious Spanx, then I know I'm gonna like what I see. You're so sexy." I straighten my spine.

"I'll spank _you_," she mutters, then looks at me to see if I heard her.

I smirk.

"Shut up. I can hear the police sirens coming now to take me away for statutory rape." She chuckles.

She leads me back to her car and doesn't even bother to put the top up. I stand right outside the door, gaping at her. She begins to strip down without worrying about anybody seeing. I turn my head away at the last minute before she removes it all and try to stand guard. I'm really not that depraved. I don't stare at women undressing if they don't want me to. And, honestly, I don't think she's okay with it.

I pop my neck and stretch it from side to side. Anything to keep me busy so I'm not dwelling on the sexy, naked woman behind me.

She steps out of the car a few moments later, and I want to fall down and worship her.

My eyes light up. She's gorgeous; knock me dead from my dick exploding off me, gorgeous.

"_Daaamn_," I drawl and wipe at my chin, because I'm sure it's wet.

She blushes then looks away.

"That color, the suit—fuck. Bella, I may have to try a little harder to make sure you give me a chance after we're done surfing."

My eyes roam up and down her body. She's wearing an aqua blue paisley bikini halter top that makes her cleavage very pronounced. The aqua blue boyshorts on the bottom are cheeky, making her ass peek out at me. I want to stop her, stroke her curves with the flat of my palm to make sure they're real. They can't be. Nobody's ass is that curvy and dangerous.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," she says.

"God, I don't care. You're fucking hot," I say, breathless.

She looks down and a shy little smile crosses her mouth as she whispers, "Thank you."

"Better . . . _See_, that wasn't so hard, was it? Next you say, 'Yes, Edward, I will definitely take you home afterward, and we'll fuck until we can't breathe.' Okay—ready . . . _go_ . . "

She laughs and walks with me over to the shop.

We pick up the board and wax. The guy in the shop has eyes for her, so I make sure when she exits, my hands are on her.

"The water's around fifty-four degrees," she says, checking to make sure I'm okay with this. "I should've bought you a wetsuit. You keep disarming me though—I can't focus." She rubs the back of her neck and rolls her shoulders.

"_Tense_? I'll loosen you up." I bite my lower lip.

"That doesn't help—since the reason I'm tense is because you're breathing your sex vibe all over me."

"It's free of charge." I lick my lips.

"Good Lord," she groans. "Just answer me this—do I need to go back in and buy you a wetsuit? No innuendos, please . . ." She stares at me.

"No. Isabella. I. Do. Not. Need. One," I say, robotic.

She rolls her eyes and hides her smile with her hand.

"I go surfing every summer with my buddy, and we get used to the temperature of the ocean pretty quickly. It's not necessary. Keep your wallet in your purse, unless you've got that condom tucked in there. Then . . . By all means. Rip that sucker back out."

She exhales. "Good, then I won't worry about you getting cold."

"A rubber's gonna keep me warm? Oh, I get it . . . I'll be inside you, and you're on fire, right?"

"_Leaving_ now . . ." She sing songs. "We've got someone waiting for us." She points the way and starts walking.

"Okay, fine. Have it your way. You keep the condom, and if I get cold, you'll warm me up in whatever way you deem sensible."

She goes silent, a look of grim determination crosses her face, and I can't help but notice how worried she is.

"Hey, I'm only teasing. Sorry. I didn't mean to get to you," I say.

"It's not you." She sniffs.

"Your ex?"

Her right shoulder goes up a touch, and then she goes stiff.

She grabs her beach bag out of the car.

_No more jokes, moron. You're not helping her._

I grab the board, find a good spot to settle for a moment and wax it up. She watches, but every few seconds, her eyes flit away.

She looks like a scared little animal, her ears pricked, looking for a warning there's a predator nearby.

I watch her, worried she's gonna cry. She looks really concerned.

I hand the wax back to her when I'm done and she puts it in her beach bag. I take her free hand with mine and we walk down to the water together.

"Hey, it's gonna be fine. I won't let him bother you," I say.

She offers a weak smile, but it's almost worse than the scared look she wore moments ago, because I can tell she doesn't believe me.

Then what the hell am I doing here? If she didn't want me to keep her safe, why'd she bring me along?

"No more jokes. I'll be good," I say, my shoulders rounding forward.

"Thank you. That would probably be a good idea. Although, I did appreciate the distraction." Her pace quickens.

A very tall, rugged man, wearing a dark blue Body Glove, full length wetsuit, stares at her from lower down the beach. He's waiting at the edge of the water. His short black hair is all wet and spiky; he's very muscular and has gleaming, straight teeth. So this is the competition? I'm nothing like this man. I'm not sure how to feel about this.

My grip on her hand tightens.

Once we're in hearing range, he says, "Bells, took you long enough. I already caught several waves. You're missing it." He grabs her away from me and pulls her into a hug.

She shivers lightly at the cold water dripping from his suit.

"Jake, this is Edward, my boyfriend."

I look at her puzzled. _Boyfriend_? Hasn't she been telling me repeatedly she doesn't do the boyfriend thing? _If_ we fuck, it'll mean nothing more to her than an orgasm?

She smiles at me as if to say, _go along with it, please!_

I smile back. Well, she did it _now_. The word boyfriend is the green light for me to manhandle her ass all I want in front of this big douche.

"Nice to meet you," I say as I shake his hand.

"So, how did you two meet?" he asks.

"I was buying groceries, and when I was leaving the store, it was pouring down rain. He was on foot, carrying several loaded-down bags of food. I offered him a ride, and the rest is history," she tells him quickly.

"Actually, I begged her for a ride, because I wanted any excuse I could find to talk to her and stare into her gorgeous eyes. I couldn't resist her." He needs to hear from another guy this woman is something special, and he shouldn't have taken her for granted. She needs to hear it too.

She colors around the ears, looks down and her ex smacks her ass.

"Sounds good. Hit the waves, babe, before sunset." Jake smirks.

I glare at him, my stomach mashed up from that one little move from him.

"You wanna go first?" she asks me.

"No, let's go together," I offer. I want her out there with me—and most definitely, away from him. I tuck a few stray strands of hair behind her ear; the breeze keeps blowing it in her face.

"God, already fighting. I'm not waiting for you two," Jake says. He runs out with his board and starts paddling out.

"I thought he'd never leave," I say as I extend my hand to her. "How're you doing?"

"Fine," she replies.

"Okay, if you're sure." I rest a hand on her shoulder.

"I am. Let's go surf." She looks me in the eyes, and there's some lightness there, so I let go of her.

I grab the long board and check to make sure there's enough wax on it. She watches every move I make, and I love that she's not watching her ex at all, who's out in the water, showing off, no doubt.

I stand up, grab the board in one hand, her hand in the other and we head out into the cool water. She's got goose bumps flashing across her skin immediately and I reach over and give her a kiss. I figure that's what boyfriends do so it should be allowed. She smiles at me and looks excited; I know I am.

We get out in the water up to our waists; I strap on the ankle leash and help her get on the board in front of me. We straddle it at first, sitting up until we get a little deeper into the ocean. Her ex is surfing by himself, hooting and hollering to himself like an idiot. What a self-absorbed dick! Why does he want her to surf with him if he's not even going to notice her? What's the point?

She positions herself lying on her stomach and wraps her legs up behind me as I lie myself between her legs and keep my balance. We paddle out in perfect unison and the waves are nice with a good flow. Not too choppy or harsh. We get into position to wait for the wave and as we're floating, I say to her, "Have you tandem surfed before?"

"A little with Jake. _You_?"

"Yeah, I've done it before with a few friends. I got pretty good at it, but it's been a while . . ."

She cranes her head over her shoulder so she can see me.

"Do you put your right foot in back?" I ask.

"Yeah, do you?"

"Yes—see how compatible we are?" I grin.

She nods and then gets ready. We feel a good wave coming on, so we double paddle. We've got a good rhythm, timing and flow.

I smile. God, I love being on top of her on this long board.

We paddle three times with our arms timed perfectly and then she's readying to pop up. I tap her lower back as I feel the wave pushing us from behind. The peak of the wave is imminent. I pop up first to get out of her way. She's up right after me, and I snuggle into her. I place my left hand in front of her shoulder, steadying her with the flat of my palm and place my right on her abs.

Jesus . . . They're tight, wet and so sexy. She leans her back into me. I'm able to steer and move us around with the waves fairly easily. Wow, it feels like we've been doing this together forever.

She's smiling, very loose and carefree. There's only our bodies touching, the sound of the wind, the cold water and our beating hearts. Nothing else exists; nothing else matters.

I take a step closer into her until my ear is only an inch or two away from hers. She keeps her gaze forward. I slide my hand down her abs until I'm bracing her with the flat of my palm, right above her pubic bone. Her breathing hitches slightly, and I try to focus so I don't make her lose her balance.

We ride the wave pretty far in, but then she wraps her arm around mine, touches my wrist lightly and my back leg wobbles. Before we topple in, I grab her by the waist, lift her and toss her out, away from the board so she doesn't get hurt. When I come up for air, she's already surfaced and laughing.

"That was great," she says.

"_Again_?" I ask.

She nods.

I swim over to her and give her a kiss on the mouth. We stand up in the waist-deep water and suddenly there's a fierce electric charge, thrumming between us. I grab her, and her left leg wraps around my hip. She pushes her tongue inside my mouth, and I grab the back of her head to keep her in place. She breathes hard as she pulls me into her tighter.

A wave pushes us apart, and I groan, cursing this damn ocean for taking her away from me.

Jake floats a few feet away, laughing at us.

I ignore him. He means nothing to me.

I grab her hand and pull the board over to her. She hops on, and I get seated in behind. I wish I could strap her to me so I could stay spooned in behind her all the time.

We go through the same routine, but this time I feel brave enough to kiss her neck as we ride the wave in. She bends her neck slightly to the side, and her arms wrap around mine, lightly fingering the outside of my palms. It gives me goose bumps and makes my groin tingle.

We're able to ride this one in all the way, and we both run off the board before the board is beached.

I grab her in another tight embrace, swinging her around a little. "You're pretty incredible at this. We make a good team."

"I think so too," she says all out of breath and straightens up her top. Her breasts were very nearly exposing themselves. I'd be all for that plan if her ex wasn't here.

Jake yells, "Bells, one more, then I gotta go."

She waves to him, signaling she understands what he said. Her attention snaps right back to me as soon as she's given him that small acknowledgment.

My chest fills with heat, even though the water's really cold.

We head back out, and once more, we're in sync and catch a good swell. This time I pull my hands up her thighs and stroke her ass on the ride in. She giggles.

Who else besides me would try to get it on while riding a surf board with her?

I smile and keep touching her.

We lazily fall into the water at the end of the swell, and this time she swims over to me then wraps her body around me. She kisses me while laughing.

I love that sound, and my heart swells, watching her have a great time.

I lift and support her by placing my hands under her ass so her mouth is lined up with mine perfectly.

"Come on, you two. I gotta go," Jake hollers.

Bella starts to follow him out. I want to stay in the water, so I debate on whether I should follow as well.

My eyes travel after her, and I eventually head in her direction. It's not a good idea to leave her alone with this snake, since he has a tendency to treat her like shit.

I drag my feet through the water and shiver as the wind whips by.

"So I'll be over at five for dinner?" he asks her.

My neck whips toward him and my eyes narrow while my teeth clench.

She's feeding him? Why would she do that when she can't stand him?

"Ummm, no, not tonight. Edward and I are having dinner together alone," she answers.

I grab her hand and step to her side.

"We always have dinner together after we surf," he complains. He tips his head back like he's pissed, then drops it back down and scowls at her.

"I didn't have a boyfriend before," she says. She wraps her free arm around her middle, and shakes in the cool breeze.

"Give me a break," he says, rolling his eyes. "We've been doing this forever."

Is there some other arrangement going on that I'm unaware of?

My eyes shift back and forth between the two.

"Not tonight," she repeats.

"Fine, I'll see you next week then," he says and stomps off; his hands fisted at his sides. I can tell he's muttering something under his breath and cursing.

"Yeah . . . See ya, asshole," she whispers after him, refusing to watch him go.

I study her carefully, to make sure she's okay. "Let's go hit a few more." I say, trying to drag her back into the surf.

"I'm cold. I'm ready to leave," she almost whines at me, her lips turning blue.

"I know how to warm you up," I hint around.

I step close to her and loosely enfold my arms around her waist. Her big eyes give me a questioning look. I drag the back of my right hand up the side of her body and lightly pull it up over the side of her round, perfect breast. I'm definitely warming up a little bit now. She stands still, and her eyes burn at me when I do it again.

"Water," she says as she points at the ocean. "Warm me up out there."

She pulls me back out into the water, and we ignore the board this time. We float along as our tongues taste, suck and lick in each other's mouths; our hands explore bravely and our body's fuse together.

I make sure the waves can't break us apart by wrapping a leg around hers.

She drags my hand to her right breast and says, "Show me that you know what you're doing." She blinks and swallows hard, like this is my one chance to earn her trust.

I grin, even though I'd wished for a more stable place to do this. These aren't the best circumstances.

I'm supposed to perform to the best of my ability with waves rocking me around?

Determined, I stand up tall and glance at her breasts, barely clearing the water. I take a deep breath and knead gently.

"I'd rather use my mouth." I plead with my eyes for permission.

"Hands first. Mouth later. There are pressure points in the nipple," she informs me. "If you lightly roll them and put a little bit of pressure, then the woman will be insanely turned on. Do you know how to do that?"

"Is that permission to touch your nipples?"

"Yes, show me," she says, her eyes bright and clear.

All that fear, tenseness she displayed around her ex, is gone.

My hand slides up out of the water, gently pulls her bikini cup aside and I start twisting and turning it about. Her pink, tightly erect nipples, warm to my touch, and she looks at me like she's ready to pounce. Her breathing shallows, her pupils dilate, and a flash of shock registers on her face; her lips parting as she makes a fluttering of a moan.

I do it a few more times, and her eyelids go heavy. Her breathing changes; picks up, going ragged.

She takes her hands and puts them on my shoulders. It helps to brace her from the waves, and makes it a little easier for me to keep touching her this way.

I smile, and my eyes go heavy too.

"That feels good," she rasps. "Great hands."

I need to taste her breasts . . . _now_, so I lean over and suckle at her soft, pink nipples.

"Wait . . . Wait; let me show you how it's done." She pulls her bikini cup back up, leans into me and she slowly, methodically runs her hands up and down the length of my chest above the water. In the next moment, she puts her feet on my thighs, pulls into me and squats down on them so she can get her mouth directly in front of _my_ nipple.

"How often do you work out?" she asks.

I can't answer, I'm too busy, watching her lips smack and curl around my flesh. Instead of pulling her out of the water and nailing her on the beach, like I really, really want to, I grab the back of her head to support her so she'll keep going.

She pulls away after showing me what she likes, and I'm thoroughly rock solid.

I stare down at my nipple. Well, damn. Never had it sucked before. That felt amazing.

She smoothes out my chest hairs with the palms of her hands. "Just like that," she says.

"I want you," I breathe. "Why are we still here?"

"I'm still thinking about it," she says. Her expression softens.

"I'm not gonna hurt you or screw it up. Please . . ."

Why won't she give in? I'm an adult, and she's attracted to me.

"What's to think about?" I ask as I try to unhook the back of her bikini. I'm fast enough, that the second her breasts are unleashed, I've got my fingers sliding up underneath the under-wires.

Her eyes widen. I've got my hands covering her entire breasts, cupping and caressing them.

"God, you feel amazing. You're so sexy, Bella. I love the way you feel in my hands," I groan. My cock is screaming at me, so thick and long, despite this arctic freeze we're immersed in, that usually shrinks it right up.

"Over-eager?" she asks as she calmly removes my hands off her. She brushes her wet hair away from her shoulder then reaches back and re-latches her swimsuit top. She scowls.

My brow tightens and creases. Why's she upset?

Her eyes cut over to the beach, and that's when I realize why. Jake's standing there, watching; fuming at us.

"Shit!" she murmurs as she stumbles to finish tying up. I reach over to help her. "Great, now he's mad at me." She bats my hands away.

"Who cares?" I ask. Why does his opinion factor into our relationship? She divorced the guy, so he has no say on who she dates.

"I care," she says.

It hits me hard like a massive wave, knocking the breath out of me and then jabbing my face down in the sand as it drags me along to shore.

"You're still in love with him!" I accuse. My whole insides tie into knots.

She diverts her eyes away from me.

Fuck! Holy, holy fuck! She used me to make him jealous, and I played straight into it, because I wanted her so much. "God, you . . . used m-me," I stammer

"No, it's not like that." Her voice escalates in a panic and she gives me this urgent, pleading look.

"Well, then why does _he_ matter? You know I want to be with you, and you're shutting me down. Why? You have needs, and I know you wanna satisfy them. I'm more than happy to help you with that." My voice is tight, on the edge of being shaky.

Jake yells at her, "Get your ass out of the water!"

"You want me to get rid of him?" I ask, hoping she'll say yes. I'm not afraid of this dick.

"No, don't be ridiculous."

I follow her out of the water, and I can tell she's upset but trying to hide it.

I feel like I'm swallowing down all her guilt for her—it's so thick, it's in the air as she barely looks at me. But she lets me grab her hand as we're exiting the waves. She needs support, and I feel the need to protect her, even though I can barely think about anything other than shoving my foot up his ass.

I glare at this prick she still has feelings for.

"My fucking car got towed." He throws a mini tantrum as he chucks his cell phone down into the sand.

"I'll give you a ride," she says, voice soft and timid.

What the fuck? He can ride the bus or catch a cab.

"There are only two seats," I remind her. I'm not planning on walking or hitching a ride home. She's with me, not with this raging lunatic. I face her and peer into her eyes. When she doesn't respond, I turn to him.

He grunts at me.

"I'll call you a cab," I suggest.

Bella pulls out her phone and beats me to it.

Jake glowers at me as he retrieves his sandy phone. I lean over and kiss Bella, ignoring his ugly looks he throws at us.

I only have to worry about keeping her happy. He's unimportant. I smile at her, and she seems reluctant at first, but eventually smiles back, her shoulders up around her ears.

"Hurry up, Bells. I'm freezing," he says and grabs her towel out of her beach bag then wraps it around himself.

My tongue glues to the roof of my mouth and goes heavy so I won't tell him he's the biggest pussy and asshole I've ever met.

I stare at him, and can't believe she puts up with his shit. He's got a freaking wet suit on, and Bella's in a bikini.

She's shaking and turning blue.

"That's Bella's towel," I say. "And as you can see—she needs it a lot more than you do."

He chuckles like he thinks I'm joking then runs the towel over his hair. Directly after, he shakes his hair out; droplets landing on her.

A guttural growl rips out of my gut.

I don't have a towel to offer her, and it's obvious she's tense over what I just did, so instead of pushing the issue, I turn myself into a human blanket. I step behind her; wrap myself around her from behind and rest my chin on her shoulder. She sags her back into my chest. I briskly rub my hands together to heat them up and then start trying to warm her arms up. She curls up into a ball to keep warm.

Her breaths come in tiny pants.

"Let's get you over to the car and put the top up so we can get you out of this drafty, chilly breeze," I say.

She nods; her teeth begin to chatter.

Jake tries to hand her the towel back after he watches me, touching and kissing all over her. I shove it back at him and kiss her shoulder then sway her back and forth.

"Too late," I snarl at him. He's already soaked her towel through, and he didn't take care of her when he could've.

As soon as we get to the car, she points at the tow truck half a block away. "Isn't that your car right there?" she asks him.

It's parked and the tow driver is re-securing it.

My eyes squint as I try to focus better at his car in the distance.

Hell no! It's the same exact car she has, but instead of being in white, it's blue.

"Holy shit! That _is_ it," he says. He takes off running after it.

"Good riddance," I choke out since the cold has my breath catching in my throat.

I help her put the top back up. She slides inside.

I run over to the passenger side, and before she can begin to drive me home, I say, "Come here, I'll warm you up fast."

She shakes around, and her teeth clack together. Her skin almost feels like it's covered in sand paper since each hair follicle is erect and her skin is flashing goose bumps everywhere.

I kiss and massage life and warmth back into her hands.

She pulls back and says, "My feet first. If they're warm then I won't feel as cold."

I grab her left ankle and massage it, along with her foot, rubbing all the sand off as I go. My hand drifts up her calf as well.

"You have the best hands." Her breath is broken and stilted; her diaphragm spasms.

A chill runs through me, and I smile.

I lightly trace around her big toe; it's soft and clean from being in the ocean for so long. I don't know what comes over me, but I lean into her ankle, pull her foot up and suck her big toe into my mouth. I take it all in—part of the pad of the foot too. Wrap one palm around her heel and the other around the sole of her foot. I massage as I suck. My mouth is gentle, warm and lightly pulling her foot into me.

She grips the seat and gasps a few times then tips her head back.

"Shit! What the fuck?" She wriggles around, and her face flushes. Suddenly, her head falls forward and she stares at me. "Edward, stop . . . I don't even know . . . fuck! That's feels _so_ good." She pushes herself back up into the door, looking almost alarmed. Her eyes shift to my lap.

I keep sucking greedily and get a good grip on her, to keep her in place.

She squirms and her head bobs about.

I trickle my hands up her ankle and straight up her leg.

I break suction for a small moment and say, "Take me home with you now. No more discussions."

She nods. I let go of her leg. After a few deep breaths from both of us with our eyes wide and focused on each other, she drags her feet back over to her side. She starts the car and races out, heading south—back to her place where I'll get the chance to steal my way into her heart, if not into her pants.

**A/N: **

**Yep, he's a kinky little bastard. I had my toes sucked years ago by somebody who probably had a foot fetish, but he didn't know what he was doing so it was kind of repellent. This is how it should have been done. Edward's very good with his mouth so of course he quickly figures out a way to make it the panty-soaking experience it should be.**

**Thank you for the kind reviews and for reading… **

**Chanse**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Touching Inside and Out**

"Come with me," she says, out of breath as she parks the car in her garage next to a second vehicle.

She fumbles with unbuckling her seatbelt. I rest my hand on hers, rendering it motionless.

She turns toward me, her eyes wide.

"There's no rush," I say. My eyes sweep over her. "I'll warm you up, but it takes time, and I plan to savor every moment consuming you."

She closes her eyes and her head tips back. "I'm not used to slow. I like it hard and fast." Her head drops to her left shoulder, and she stares with a blank expression out the driver's side window.

"Try it; you might like it," I suggest. I run my hand up her arm.

"I like _you_," she replies.

"That's good. I'll make sure I tell my buddy in second grade you've checked that box off on the note you passed me." I smile. "I'm not stupid, Bella. You told me what this means to you. But that doesn't mean it won't mean more to me than a simple fuck. That's not my style, to go that route." I pause and my hand drifts the rest of the way up her arm, making its way into her damp hair. "You're nothing like the other women I've been with, but I don't care." My fingers wrap around the back of her head, and I pull her mouth over to mine.

I part her lips slowly with mine, slide my tongue in and heat radiates through my body.

Her hand reaches up, curls around my forearm, and she yanks me closer.

When I slide her to the edge of her seat, her other hand reaches out and grabs my thigh.

Our breaths are hot, pounding out of us with wet gasps, and I can barely think when her hand moves higher up my leg.

I break the kiss and rest my forehead against hers. "Fuck—I don't want to hurt you, but you're . . ."

"You won't," she says. She shakes her head and smiles, our foreheads sliding against each other. "I must be delirious. I shouldn't be doing this. You're not my usual type at all either, but, God, there's something . . . I can't resist you." She inhales and bites her bottom lip on the side.

I nip at it. "You've been doing a good impression of someone resisting up to this point. Let's go inside," I suggest.

"Okay," she says, breathless.

We let go of each other, and I get out of the car, run over to her side and let her out.

She smiles, and once I shut the door, she falls into my side, wrapping one arm behind my back and the other rests on my chest with her palm over my heart. "So damn cute. It's really not fair." Her hand behind me, reaches down and squeezes my ass.

My breath catches and my dick bobs. I turn to her, my eyes heavy. "It's not fair? Why's that?" I back her up against the car, cage her with my arms. "Fair? I kind of worried you were merely tolerating me. I'm nothing like your ex."

"Thank God," she groans. "He's such a grumpy bastard." Her palms slap onto my chest and they drag their way down to my shorts. My eyes follow the path, but then she stops and when I look up, she's smiling, but her eyes look hesitant.

I release her from her spot, take her hand and we walk together into the house once she's got her car secured and the garage door closed. "Just so you're aware, I wasn't talking about looks-wise. And obviously your ex and my personality are nothing alike, but I meant his build. He's a pretty big guy."

"You're taller—I like that better," she says.

I nod. There are other differences I'm sure beneath these clothes, but I suck in a tight gust of air, and keep my thoughts to myself.

"Anything you else like about me, please feel free to share," I say.

"I think we're done talking," she says. She leads me back to her bedroom then swings around, her eyes smoldering at me. "Bring me this pleasure you promised, . I'm giving you your chance. Prove to me you're not a kid; I need a man."

"I've got whatever you need," I say, and my chest aches just looking at her, because, fuck if she's not the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen.

She stands motionless, waiting for me to do who knows what?

I step into her and wrap my arms around her waist and sway her back and forth. "I don't know if I should thank you or curse you." I reach behind her and get a good feel of her. "God, your ass makes me so hard." I press my hard on into her.

She smiles. "I have no idea why."

"Because it's so tight and fucking curvy," I reply.

She grips my ass back. "Hard and fast," she whispers. "That's how I need it."

"No, slow and satisfying. That's what you need. I promise you won't regret it." I dip my head down and kiss her neck, sucking and licking the salt off her skin.

Her hands are in my hair, her head lolling behind her.

"We'll see," she says.

"Yeah, we _will_ see," I say, chuckling into her pulse point. How many times has she said that to me today? I bite at her neck, just a graze, and her whole body tightens then she goes onto her toes. My hand sweeps over her soft shoulder, and she lifts it, like there's a magnet under her skin, following my fingers.

Her eyes light up and she stops breathing.

She reaches behind her and leans back, pulling the covers down.

I hum low in my chest, and my dick vibrates. "Mmm . . . I think you really _do_ wanna see." My chest is tight and I feel strangled at my own stupid-ass joke. The last thing I want is for her to really see me.

"No, kiddo. I wanna _feeeel_," she drawls. "I need more of you."

I gently lower her to the mattress and before standing back up straight, I slide her swim suit bottom off, while keeping my eyes on hers the entire time. She grimaces a little and a look of fear flashes in her eyes.

Shit. She's regretting this already.

My hands travel up her thighs, over her hips and when I reach her bikini top, my fingers slip under the bikini wires and I rest my lower half on her legs.

She beams at me. "Exactly how slow you gonna take this? Waiting until menopause strikes me?" she teases. She swings her legs, trying to move me up her body.

"Nope. Just enjoying the view of these sexy tits," I say. I tear my hands out from under the top and pull the cups to the side. When I slide up her body, her breasts are pushed up into my face. I wrap my lips around her right nipple, and her left leg, tucked between mine, hitches up. Her thigh grazes my balls. My back arches and then my hips thrust into her leg.

She flattens it.

"God, you have the most beautiful breasts I've ever seen. Exquisite. So soft; so tasty." I lightly skim my nose across her left nipple and blow on it. I slip a tongue out and lick the tip. Goose bumps erupt in that area. "Salty, like the ocean, mmmm." I suck and move my tongue the way she showed me in the cool ocean. She responds by gripping my shoulders and pushing her hips up into me.

"And wetter, too," she responds.

"We'll see . . ." I smirk.

She smacks my cheek playfully. "When?"

"I thought you old timers had all the patience in the world," I joke.

"Well, I'm sorry to inform you those Geritol and Depends ads lie. Fuck, kiddo. Do I need to start your lessons now?"

I run my tongue between her breasts, making my way down her torso, creating a wet line. She stiffens and suddenly props herself up. "I'm getting cold. Do you mind if we pull the covers over us?"

"Sure," I say. Her skin does feel cool to the touch, her hair's still damp from the ocean and I really didn't want her to see all of me naked anyway.

She crawls quickly under the covers, and I fight off a frown. Just because I don't want her to see me, doesn't mean I don't want to be able to see her as I'm eating her out under the covers. But it's fine. Anything I can do to make her more comfortable so she'll continue to let me do this, is worth it.

I duck under the blankets, moistening her right ribs and making my way back down toward her pussy.

A soft moan tumbles out of her, and suddenly I've got my tongue on her clit and my fingers teasing her moist lips.

When my fingers circle her opening, her hands tap me on the head.

I pull back a few inches. "Something wrong? I ask from under the dark fabric.

"Oh, God, you're gonna think this is gross," she says, sounding mortified. "I've got my balls inside."

"Your what?" I crawl back out of the tent I'd made between her legs and settle down next to her.

"My pleasure balls. I like to wear them inside of me when I'm exercising, especially doing yoga. It gets me off." She stares at the ceiling, her eyes flat.

"Holy shit! You're so naughty." I had no idea that those balls were inside of her the whole time I've been up against her and touching her body. "There's something inside your pussy?"

"Yeah." She exhales and drapes an arm over her chest, hiding her tits from me. "It tones my pelvic muscles at the same time. I'm not as young as I once was. I wear ben wah balls pretty frequently."

"Can I see them?"

"I suppose." She reaches her hands under the cover, and before she can remove them, I pull her arm back out.

"I mean, I wanna see for myself. I'll take them out." Her eyes go wide and a flicker of desire simmers in them. Her lips part and her breathing speeds up. I smile and continue, "Is there a trick to getting them out?"

"Not really. There's a string that attaches the two metal balls together. You can grab the string in the middle and tug, or just grasp one of the balls with your fingers and drag it out."

"Shit—that sounds sexy as fuck," I groan, stretching my neck back.

"It's really not. It's messy," she says, giggling a little. She strokes her hand through my hair. "Fucking cute. You're killing me."

"Oh, but your pussy juices all over some metal balls inside you isn't killing me?" I growl, and head back under the covers.

As I'm bending her knees and spreading her back apart, she reaches behind her and unfastens her bikini top.

I'd be all over those tits if it wasn't for knowing there's something taking up residence where my dick must be.

I take a breath, put my mouth on her, thrust my tongue into her cleft.

Her lower back bows for a second and then melts back into the mattress. I do it again, and this time, her hips roll open wider.

Her scent is like a drug—making my head buzz and my gut tingle. My heart pounds as I finally slip two fingers inside her.

_Pttt. Pttt._

The balls clink together, and I moan like a man coming undone.

I finger them and knock them together again; her legs shift toward me.

I press the flat of my tongue on her clit and yank a little on that string inside her; playing with those erotic balls.

Her hands reach down into the covers and she tugs on my hair; she pants and the soles of her feet run down my outer thighs.

All at once, I'm stunned by the way those balls roll around inside her, but I don't want to use my fingers, or even my dick to get them to move.

The string's long enough, I drag the center of it to her entrance and make sure it's poking out.

I run my finger over the strand once, take a deep breath and scoot down a few inches. The angle of my head shifts over to the side, and I use my teeth to tease it, make it dance inside her.

"Oh fuck!" she pants. "What're you . . . Ohhhhhh my God!" She tries to sit up, and her fingers wrap around my head as she tries to pull me up to her. "No more fucking around. I need that dick inside me, now!"

I rub my body on her as I come back up for air. My swim shorts are still on, but it's fine.

Her tits are mine, and my fingers can get back up inside her and play with those balls some more. They're warm to the touch when I finger them again, and each time I push them higher inside her, a soft moan breaks out of her.

Her chest flushes as I suck at her nipples one at a time.

The balls clang again, and I'm dying to know what they'll feel like on my dick as I'm fucking her. I pull my hand out and cup myself for a second, debating on if I should go ahead and pull my shorts off now.

"Sick of playing with an old lady's toys?" she asks, grinning.

"So very, very naughty," I whisper through my smile as I continue to kiss her. "I could never get sick of this kinky woman. You have no idea how fucking how hard I am for you right now. Those metallic balls are like nothing compared to _my_ metal shaft." I press my erection against her thigh.

She reaches down between her legs so fast, I'm unable to stop her. When her hand makes a reappearance, she's got those two silver balls cupped in her palm. She reaches over and sets them on her nightstand.

My eyes go wide and focus on the way they glisten with her fluids, and I can barely breathe as I think about how I had my teeth on that string.

"Put 'em back in," I say.

She chuckles. "Not for your first time with me."

"Why not?"

She uses her palm against my cheek to turn my head back to her. Holy fuck—her hand's really moist with her pussy juices that were on those balls. My eyes slide up in my head; I turn my lips to her palm and kiss in the center, then lick her flavor off.

"Let's just keep things simple for now." She wraps her legs around my ass. Her hand darts back down below the covers once more, and this time she strokes my shaft from the outside of my bathing suit.

"Why are you still dressed?"

She slips her hands under my shorts and fondles my ass.

I grip my trunks at the waist, and just as I'm yanking them off . . .

_Screeeeeeep!_

A car races up and parks outside the front of her house.

She cringes and groans. Her hands stop stroking me.

A car door slams loudly, and she tenses.

I ignore it and go back to undressing, but I can't quite get them off, with her hand gripping my cock tight from outside of my clothes.

"Move your hand," I tell her.

"Shhhiiit!" She pushes me off her.

I roll to the side and secure my shorts back in place.

The front door in her living room flies open.

"Bella, get out here, now!" Jake yells.

My jaw snaps shut, and a river of ice spreads down my spine. He has a key. He used it. And he's in her goddamn house, cockblocking me, the bastard!

"Don't listen to him. I'll get rid of him." I move to the edge of the bed. "Stay here."

"No, you better go." She gets up, faces away from me and quickly pulls her swim suit back on.

My whole face contorts, and I can barely see since my eyes are down to slits and watering. "Don't do this." I grip her covers. "He doesn't care about you like I do."

She turns toward me and her eyes grow wide. They're so filled with regret and sorrow, I have to shift my gaze away for a second.

Did I make her look this way, or was it him? Is she realizing now she was on the verge of making a huge mistake?

"I can't do this now. Take my car keys and borrow the Volvo to get yourself home. It's my other car you saw in the garage. I have to talk to him. I'll come over and see you later." She wraps her arms around her middle.

I cock my head her and sniff. "Why do you jump through every hoop he throws at you? You don't have to."

Her shoulders rise and she drops her chin. "It's . . . complicated." She gives me a haunted, crushed look and then sighs. "You'll get yours, eventually."

"You think because this was gonna be nothing but a quick fuck for you, that's all I wanted from you? Fuck! I'm not some asshole that uses women." I shove my back against the wall. "I'm not like _that_. I'm not like _him_!" I point toward the door to her bedroom. "Believe it or not, I actually really do like you and wanted to get to know you better. You know . . ." my teeth clench together, and I talk through them ". . . spend some more time together and have more conversations—that shit women like to do? _Talking_? Yeah, this guy likes that too." I point at my chest. "I care what you think, and I love hearing you speak your mind."

Her right eye twitches and she frowns. "I told you—dating doesn't work for me. What you're talking about is . . ."

"You know what? Forget about it. I hope you have a nice chat with him—the man that doesn't listen, pisses you off and uses you without a second thought." I walk over to the door, pull it open and keep my eyes straight ahead as I ignore his stares.

I find her keys by the front door I didn't even realize she'd brought in when we got here.

The second I have them in hand, open that garage door through the kitchen, the pain rifles through me.

My fists close and without another thought, I've got her garage door open, I'm backing out and driving off while my chest throbs like he just kicked the shit out of me.

"Yeah, we'll see . . . That's all you can fucking say to me. Hey, get out of here, you lying sack of shit, that's what you should've said to him!" I grit and hit the gas harder.

So many things I could've said to her to try and persuade her to act differently slam into my mind.

When I get home, I'm almost dizzy with all the images I have of him taking her back to her bed, pressing those balls back inside of her, followed up by his nasty dick.

He's no good for her.

I slam her keys down on my counter, grab something to drink out of the fridge and chug it down without tasting a damn thing.

The next breath, I've ripped the swim shorts off, balled them up and thrown them across the room.

_Splllllluuuuuck!_

They hit the front door and slide to the ground.

I glare at them and then drop my head, staring at my still, hard dick.

What is she thinking?

I head back to my bathroom, take a long, hot shower, soaking my head thoroughly. Each time I think of her in the ocean, I'm throbbing and aching for her.

I ignore it. There's no way I'm gonna jack off.

When the water cools, I turn it off, dry myself and throw on some clothes.

I pace around my room, and eventually wander out into my small living room.

As I glance around the ridiculously small, plain space I live in, I growl.

I barely looked at her place, I was in such a hurry to get her naked and have my mouth on her. But what I saw, I really loved.

It was warm, inviting, and there was this feeling that pervaded the atmosphere of a very thoughtful, intelligent woman, spending time to make it a haven of sorts.

"Ahhhhhh!" I scream and kick the wall. I pick up my textbook and chuck it across the room. All the shit I had sitting on top of it goes flying too. "So fucking stupid! She doesn't want you!"

I crash down into the couch cushions and knock the back of my head into the wall.

My phone chimes on the side table, right next to where my book had just been.

I stupidly pick it up and answer without looking to see who's calling. All because I'm dying inside over the thought it could be Bella, calling to say the dickhead's gone, she stomped his nuts and can I please come back over and fuck her until she's mine?

"Oh, hi, Edward. I'm glad you're home," Haley says.

I tip my head back, rest it on the back of my pathetic couch and run a hand over my face. "Yeah, I just got in."

"Can I come over?" she asks. "I'd like to see you again."

I exhale, rub my lips together and slide my top teeth over my bottom lip. My gut fills with this wiggly-worm feeling, and I know what I have to do. "No, sorry, Haley. But I can't. I've started seeing somebody. And . . . And I really love her. It wouldn't be fair."

Silence. "Oh . . . Ok-kay, sorry to bother you."

_Click._

Static.

Like my heart.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: A Convincing Act**

I can't breathe; can't seem to function, unsure what to do at this point. Do I call her? I remember her phone number from the gym, so I grab my phone and put it in my contacts in case I need it at some future date. And what about the partner yoga class? Do I go ahead and show up? She said she was going to pay for it. What if she already did? Is there a way I can cancel and tell the gym to refund her the money?

I shake my head and ignore the gnawing feeling in my gut. I'll go to the gym tomorrow and talk to them about it. I can't be touching her and act like I don't care about her.

And she's clearly in love with her ex.

I pace and huff and act like a goddamn girl, waiting for a guy to call after a date.

What's my problem?

I grab a paper out of my notebook for school, take a pencil and start writing her a note.

This is the best way. I can't see her again—too painful.

When I'm done, I briefly proofread it to make sure I've said all the things I need to, without sounding like some pathetic ovary with tear ducts.

_Bella,_

_I don't know how you did it, but you've stolen a part of me. I saw something between us I wanted to explore further, and even after I saw today what you've been dealing with in regards to your ex, Jake, I still wanted more. I was prepared to protect you and help you move forward, but you obviously don't want my help. And I'm not willing to grovel for scraps of your attention. Not to mention—I refuse to share you with some other asshole. The way you treated me today was inexcusable, dropping me in a moment's notice at his whim when he treats you like trash. I won't let you do that to me again, and I really hope you never do that to another guy. I don't know what happened to the woman I was getting to know—all self-confidence and sure of what she wants. It seems once he's within a few feet of you, that all disappears and you lose sight of who you are. I hope you can find a way to love yourself all the time, even when he's around. Please find happiness and love again. You deserve it._

_Best wishes,_

_Edward_

I change into some jeans, a tee shirt and some tennis shoes then grab my bike. A little bit of grease gets on my pant leg as I'm hauling it out to her car, but it doesn't matter. It's not like she's gonna even look at me. I frown at the thought of how indifferent she might be when I get there.

It takes a moment to remove the front wheel and place it, along with the rest of the bike, in the trunk. I'll need a way to leave after I drop off her car.

"Ooohhhhoooo," I take a deep, gut twisting breath. My feet are numb.

I start the car and head back over to her house. Once I'm at her place, I set the note on the passenger's seat so she'll see it next time she's in here.

When I slip out of the car, I glance to the side. Yep, still here. His car never left. And for some idiotic reason, my heart sinks.

Why did I fool myself into thinking I could handle this woman? A low whine traps in the back of my throat. My teeth click closed and my jaw tenses.

_She warned you, and now you're being a pussy since you didn't get any._

I snap my head away from her house, my eyes moistening.

As I'm pulling my bike out and reassembling it, I can hear their voices in her backyard. Once the wheel's back on, I ride by her fence and chuck the car keys over it.

_Pliiiiick!_

It sounds like it lands on the soft grass. I don't look into her yard, because fuck if I wanna know what they're doing back there.

_Spllliiiiish! Glooooosh!_

Water is churning, moving in her backyard.

Were they swimming? Does she have a hot tub they're having sex in?

Shit! The image of her tits in his mouth makes my stomach drop and crush down on my tightening nuts.

I turn my bike down her driveway and take off, pedaling as fast as I can.

_Daaaaap!_

A door opens and slams closed.

"Edward! Wait!" she calls after me.

I set my jaw to steel, and my legs pump harder.

_Don't turn around!_

The tendons in my neck stand out, and I stare straight ahead, determined not to look at her beautiful face.

That agonizing, tempting face and body call out to me, and I go over all the stupid details in my memory of the moments I had with her, so I can try and find what I did wrong.

Why does she have two cars? Why would she even let me take one if she didn't want to see me again?

Am I being a dick, and she was telling him on her own terms to fuck off?

_That's not what happened—she left you behind, and didn't care what it did to you._

Question after question, assaults my mind. So many scenarios and probabilities—and no answers at all.

"_Mrrraaah!" _I scream.

My head aches and my legs strain to go faster; protecting me from myself so I don't go back to her.

Why do I even care? I barely know her.

I take a deep breath, and the scent of her is on me after being in her car—it's driving me crazy.

My dick's too proud to say it's over, so instead, it engorges and gets harder.

That's what her scent does to me. That's what _she_ does to me.

Mother fucking stupid cock. Why can't it do this for Haley? Or some other girl at school that's actually interested in me?

Emmett's right. There's something seriously wrong with me.

.

.

.

I step into the gym the next day, ready to do what needs to be done, but then I see her, standing in the hallway, tears in her eyes.

Did she see me?

"Shit!" she mutters under her breath, and she slowly ambles away in the opposite direction.

My legs move faster than my brain, evidently, because I'm behind her, my hands on her shoulders.

"Bella . . . I . . . Are you okay?" I turn her around.

Her eyes are red, swollen and wet; there are tear tracks down her cheeks. She doesn't respond back.

"Please, answer me. Are you . . . Did he do something to hurt you?" My gut tightens. _No, asshole, you're the one that left her that nasty note and wouldn't listen, acting like a toddler when she tried to get you to stop._

My eyes shift over her body, making sure there aren't any bruises or anything like that. For all I know, he could've been an abusive husband.

_Yeah, and you left her with him, you bastard._

I loosen my grip on her shoulders and search her eyes. My gut feels ready to explode from the tortured look on her face.

Her lips tremble and her cheeks rise. "No. Do I _look_ like I'm okay?"

"You look like you need an AK47," I say, smiling. "Or maybe a castration kit? I'm sure I can direct you where to get one, though I can't say I'll stick around—since you'll probably need a man to practice on."

She smiles for a fraction of a second, then shifts her eyes away. "Shut up," she says, hiding a laugh built into that statement.

"'Shit hole day. I'm so fucking pissed . . .' That's what you're supposed to say, and then you follow it up with, 'Now, I've decided I'm ready to fuck you without any further interruptions,'" I tease. My stomach revolts, telling me I deserve to be slaughtered by her if I'm gonna go this route again. What kind of an immature asshole am I, to tell her I'm done, don't want anything to do with her, to turning around the next day and mocking her about fucking me again?

I kick my foot behind me and when it lands, my leg is pressed up against hers.

Her eyes flit down to our point of contact. She stops breathing and her eyes go a little wide.

A tear leaks out of the corner of her right eye. "I'm sorry about yesterday," she says.

God, tears . . . I can't take it.

I swipe it away with the side of my thumb and brush my hands past her hairline and drag them down the back of her ponytail.

"Please, don't cry, Bella. I can't breathe when you look so sad. I can make it better." Her face contorts in absolute pain, and without hesitation, I take her into my arms and hold her head on my chest. I want to ask her if I'm the reason she feels like shit, but I can't. It'll kill me to know I did this to her.

Instead, I rock her back and forth, pulling my hands down her back.

Who cares if we're standing in the hallway at the gym? Let people watch.

"How can you make it better?" she asks, her voice shaky.

"I can make you remember who you are—a powerful, intelligent woman. Let's go inside the class, and I'll be your partner. Yoga will make you feel better."

I extend my hand to her.

But, before she takes it, she leans in and brushes a kiss across my lips.

I groan from her whimpers and body, pressing into me like she can't get a goddamn breath without my help—from my lips on hers.

It makes my dick almost burst in my shorts, the way she grabs at me, and sounds devastated by my touch.

I sweep her hair back behind her shoulders and cup the sides of her neck. She breathes into me and melts into my body, still making this labored, gut wrenching sound of pure need. My arms slide around her back and grow more urgent as her tongue explores my mouth. I walk her backwards and shove her up against the wall roughly.

My hands push their way up her shirt, and she wraps a leg around mine.

"Uuuhhhnnnn." My cock presses between her thighs, my chest constricts and I curl around her body, swallowing her up until she's nothing but a warm ball, tucked into my chest. I want to disappear inside of her. I want to make her forget everything but me as I push my body as hard as I can into her, but then I remember how much pain she's been through with men in her past.

I don't want to hurt her.

My cheek sweeps over hers, and I nuzzle under her ear. "No more sadness. I mean it."

Her slight fingers brush across my jaw and she scratches at the day old stubble there.

Footsteps land softly behind us, heading in our direction, so I let her go. She smooths her hair out and without a word, she heads into the studio, grabs a mat and starts stretching.

Her emotions are rolling off her and she keeps her eyes off me.

I move next to her, pausing at her side. "Hey . . . I can take you home instead if you want. We don't have to do this," I tell her.

She stops moving for a moment then shakes her head. "I'm okay," she murmurs.

"You sure?" I glance the back of my knuckles down her arm.

Her arm raises for a second. "Yeah. I need this."

"All right," I respond and grab my own mat.

A few minutes later, the teacher is at the front of the room, smiling and giving instructions.

At first, Bella's stiff and her movements are choppy and forced.

The more I touch her, the more fluid she becomes. Her eyes soften, her body bends, and she's my Bella once more. The woman that commands attention and has no qualms about who she is, what she wants and needs from me.

At one point, she leans into me, and I whisper in her ear, "This is where you say, 'I wanna fuck you so bad, I can already taste my pussy on your lips.'" I kiss her softly.

Her eyes shine at me, and she smiles like she's a second away from giving in and letting me surround her with all that I am.

"Can you taste it?" I ask.

She blinks and sighs. No reply.

"I can . . . I can slide my tongue across that flavor of yours," I respond with a low growl.

Her skin darkens into a faint blush.

I brush the back of my knuckles across the hollow at her throat as I bend her backward. Her shirt slips up, and my hands find an inlet to warm, inviting flesh.

So close. Those tits are right there, but there's no time, and my job is to be her partner, not a molester.

Though right now, the latter sounds more enticing.

I press my fingers into her, hold her steady, and stroke her body as she bends and sweats and breathes hard.

It's erotic, and I need more. I need her to forget that prick she divorced.

"When are you going to say it? 'Fuck me, Edward—I need it, and you want me.' When you say it, I'll answer, 'About fucking time,' and then no more discussion." I smile and raise a shoulder as she exhales across it.

She sways near me, swinging into a new pose.

I stand behind her, my hands on her hips as I steady her into standing tree pose.

My lips hang out near her ear. "God, you smell good. But your pussy smells so much better . . . My fingers still remember what you feel like on them. They like how warm and tight you are. Are you wearing those balls today? Fuck, I hope so," I grit. I tickle the tip of my cock across the back of her lower back.

She releases a stuttering groan. The sound blends in with the rest of the class as they struggle to keep this demanding posture.

"I wanna lick them, suck them clean, but only after I tug on that string again with my teeth while they're still inside you. You liked that, didn't you?" I nip at her neck, below her ear. "Stay still. Don't want anyone to know you're attracted to me; that I'm getting to you."

She wobbles for a second, but her eyes stay straight ahead.

When I release her, and it's my turn to hold that pose, she swipes her breasts across my back. "How nice is this? Big strong guy at my mercy? Oh, I like this. Yes, so lean and powerful and hungry. What should I do to you? Tell you I'm wearing my balls, and they're hotter than your body? What if I wore two sets of balls today, so there's no room for that big cock of yours?" She drums her fingers on my waist, and I watch her from the side of my eye. She smiles and places a kiss on my shoulder. "That's right—no room. It's all taken. And I don't have to pretend I'm not interested in you. Your hard on, and my erect nipples pretty much give us away. But so what? What woman in this classroom isn't gushing in her yoga pants to have you?" She slides her chin across the top of my shoulder when I bend down so I can get my face closer to her mouth. "Naughty little boy, about to pull his pants down and show me his if I'll show him mine. Tell your second grade buddy you got out of it—I already showed you too much yesterday. But it's okay. I won't tell the principal, and you won't get spanked." She lets go of my waist and lightly smacks my right ass cheek. "Now . . . Be my partner, and stop this."

I smirk and my head rolls around on my shoulders a bit.

"Fuck me then," I whisper over my shoulder. "It'll make us both feel better." I grin. "I promise. And I never break my promises."

"We'll see . . . Things didn't go so well yesterday, and I know it's my fault, but things are complicated . . ." she says.

We mold into each other with the next pose, and there's almost a shared breath between us.

I continue to touch her unabashed the entire class, taking anything she'll give me.

"Fuck me," I say when she turns me toward her.

"Quit."

"Not 'til you fuck me."

"Edward . . ."

"You like fucking. You'll like fucking me," I remind her.

"I do love sex, but—"

"Good. Have it with me. _Lots_ of it. You know it'll be amazing." My dick twitches.

"I can't," she says, staring at me like I've gone completely nuts.

"You can. You want to. Do I need to say it again?" I raise a brow at her.

"No."

"Good. So, you'll fuck me?"

She huffs.

"That's not a no," I say.

"It's not a yes, either."

"It's a—we'll see. And to me, that means 'Yes, I'll fuck you. Say when.'" I set my hands on her shoulders and lean her back into my chest.

"It's a bit more complicated than that."

"So, you keep saying." I kiss the top of her head, take her arms and stretch them out wide and then up over her head.

"And you keep saying, 'Fuck me,' on a rampant loop." She chuckles quietly.

"Because you're not hearing me. I'll say it again." I bend my knees and groan, "Fuck. Me. End this torture. God, Bella . . ."

"Find a vagina somewhere else. One with less travel miles."

"I like reliable. I like lickable, and I like _you_. I don't want some unnameable girl to use as a fuckhole." I drag my hands down her arms and run them dangerously close to her tits as I settle them on her ribs.

"Isn't that what I am? A nameless fuckhole to all the men?" she asks.

"Not to me. You're an unnameable piece of my heart you stole, and I want it back. The only way to do that is to be inside you. Stop saying we'll see." I slip my right hand between her legs and brush it up her right inner thigh.

Her breathing shallows. "Persistence isn't a problem for you—patience is," she remarks.

"Not patience in bed. I told you—I'll take it slow, and you'll come all over me repeatedly before I let a drop of my come out," I murmur into her neck.

She tenses her shoulders so I nibble at the curve.

The next move we make is to help each other down to the mat.

"It's Jake, isn't it?" I ask.

"We're not going to talk about that here. After class," she says, and her gaze darts away.

I rest my hand on her ankle once she's settled into her spot. "Okay."

When her eyes are back on me, there are tears there.

"I really like you, too," she mutters and then the talking ceases.

Tomorrow . . .

Tomorrow I'll deal with the impending pain of rejection and humiliation when I realize I pushed to get what I want and was probably used again.

Until then I keep touching her, because she's letting me.

After class, she changes into a light blue, slightly fitted summer dress and wears white strappy heels. Her hair's twisted up with a comb holding it in place. She looks amazing, and I have to wonder if she has a date after this with her shit-head ex.

She's silent as she drives me home, and I feel out of place, wearing my gym clothes and smelling like rotting garbage when she's stunning and smells incredibly clean and tasty.

"Come in for a little bit and we'll talk?" I ask her when she parks in my apartment complex's parking lot.

She nods.

I get out of the car, run around to her side and help her out.

She thanks me and smiles, but there's a touch of sadness and regret in the look she gives me.

It's like a foot, stamping on my heart. I'm bruised inside for her.

I take her hand and lead her up to my door.

"I'm sorry about what happened," she says, sounding very uncomfortable apologizing, like she's not used to doing it.

"Don't be. I shouldn't keep trying to push you into having a relationship with me. You were upfront with me, but I didn't listen because I love being around you. I've been stupid. And I'm sure at this point you think I sleep around like crazy, and that's not me at all," I say.

I pull my keys out of my pocket, avoid looking her in the eye. If she's even sadder, it'll kill me. And I'll wind up crying more than she could ever manage.

"Edward, I really like you," she says.

"_But_?" I wait for the clause, my hand motionless on the now unlocked doorknob.

"But there are things you don't know about me, and if you even wanted to simply be my friend, it wouldn't be fair to do that without you knowing a few facts first."

I turn to her slowly, like I'm on a rusted old hinge. "I _do_ want to be your friend. That's why I actually try to talk to you."

"You mostly want to talk about how to get in my pussy," she reminds me.

"Are you kidding me?" I drop my hand off the door and turn all the way around so I'm facing her directly. "Even if that was true—and could you blame me if it were?—I've spent time asking you about what you do, what you enjoy doing in your spare time. I've joked with you, because I love watching you laugh, love knowing you're happy. I've asked about your ex, and you don't want to tell me until he's at your house and I've left right after I was about to shove my dick inside you. What part of that spells out I don't care and I'm using your ass? I'm sorry, Bella—but you pointed out yourself, I could get a date if I wanted one, and most of the girls in college have no qualms spreading their legs."

She blinks back what looks like tears. "That's exactly my point." She shuffles her feet for a second and stares at the ground. "Please, I just need five minutes. Then you'll understand, and I'll leave you alone. You probably won't want to see me again afterward anyway." She glances up and there's pure fear in her eyes.

Shit. I look away, open the door and we step inside. Once she's in my place, I close the door in a robotic way, feeling numb all over.

_She doesn't really want to be here with you, idiot! She's kicking you to the curb once and for all . . ._

She stands statuesque a few feet in from the door, looking unsure of what to do, where to be, and how to act.

I ignore it. What am I supposed to do, kiss her ass now and thank her for treating me like a kid and dismissing me so easily? She hasn't listened to me so far.

I walk through my place and head to the kitchen. Really, I should be embarrassed at my little hovel, but I figure she's not here to discuss throw pillows and themes for a man-cave.

Besides, if I can't afford a vehicle then I'm not going to own a palace.

Aw, Jesus. I left my bike in the trunk of her car.

I roll my eyes at myself and mutter a few curses.

"Make yourself at home," I say coldly.

I'm sweating from yoga, I'm hot and I'm pissed. She's already seen me half naked in the ocean, so I make myself comfortable and rip off my shirt, socks and shoes and chuck them off to the side of the kitchen. I'll return them to my hamper later after she's done using my heart as a knife sharpener.

I grab a Gatorade, start chugging it and return to my small living room.

She's sitting on one of my few pieces of furniture. A tan, suede couch my mom gave me when she upgraded to newer furniture last year for her birthday.

I blink, lean up against the wall and watch her. Didn't she have something to say to me?

"I'm waiting," I say, then take a swig of my drink. "You wanted to share, and apparently, I'm in a generous mood. Either that, or I'm the biggest ovary disguised as a man in existence, because I actually care and wanna listen to you."

"Can you please come over here and at least look at me when I'm talking to you?" She pats the seat next to her and keeps her eyes on her hand.

I roll my shoulders back. "No . . . Why should I? You don't ever listen to me and do the things I ask you to do." I stand up straighter and bump my shoulder back into the wall. "Besides, according to you, all I want is to get in your pussy. I'm protecting you by staying over here."

"You know that's not true. I listen to you—I w-was trying to be . . . what you wanted me to be. I warned you I wasn't good for you, that I don't do the 'boyfriend' thing. I'm a wreck. I'm no good for anybody."

"Mmhm." I nod and continue to chug my drink. Why don't I believe her?

She gets up and strides over to me. "I'm sorry. I know I hurt you. My life is complicated right now."

"I get it. I'm a kid, and you're a grown up. I have no problems, and yours are _real_. You don't have to explain anything." Visions of her wrapping her arms around me and saying, "I care about you! Please forgive me," hit me hard, and make me choke on my drink.

She reaches out and softly strokes her fingers down the side of my cheek. "I've never been with somebody like you," she says sounding completely entranced by my presence. I'm frozen to the spot. I've stopped breathing. Can she hear my thoughts? "You scare me, and I don't want to have feelings for you. I don't belong with a twenty-year-old or a guy as smart and as wonderful as you. I belong with a forty-year-old man with money, power, and everything I need." She looks conflicted and sounds very sad about this confession.

I turn away from her. She's talking about her damn ex!

"Fuck! Why are you telling me this?" Tears threaten to mock me and turn me into a sack of estrogen with watery eyes. If I cry, I prove to her right now, I _am_ too young for her. I inhale deeply, and think about a school project I'm working on.

She shifts away from me, and I can hear her arm drop. "I'm saying all this because you were _right_. I _was_ using you the other day. That was my plan; make my ex-husband jealous."

I shut my eyes, and fight off the urge to cover my ears and yell, "Blah, blah, blah—not listening to you!"

Instead, I whisper hoarsely, "Please leave." Before I break down and either smash something or kiss her or shed one tear, I head toward my bedroom.

She follows after me and says, "But things changed. I didn't care about that anymore after I got to know you better. I stopped worrying about how Jake thinks I'm fat, too old, and too ugly. I felt alive with you, and I haven't felt that way with anybody before."

I keep moving. What am I supposed to say to all this? And does she expect me to believe her?

She grabs my arm and cries, "Please! Listen to me. I care about you, too."

I turn around and with torment in my eyes I can't hold back, I grind out, "Why are you torturing me like this? You know how I feel about you. Stop lying to me just to spare my shitty feelings! Or are you just trying to get laid, and you know I'll nail you in a second?"

"What? If that's all I wanted, I could've slept with Jake. That's what he usually does with me when he feels like it, after we surf. He hasn't been sleeping with me for the past month because he's been getting action somewhere else. I was desperate to have a man inside me, and you were begging me for it so I thought if you'd go along with it, I would take you into my bed after surfing yesterday. After you left, Jake tried to get me to sleep with him but I said no. He left, really angry with me. And I didn't give a damn, because I've never felt worse in my life than I do now over what I did to you."

"Good, he's a fucking prick. I don't know why you don't kick him out of your life for good." I roll my eyes, set my Gatorade aside and cross my arms over my chest.

She grabs my arm in a tight grip and says, "He makes my life a living hell if I don't go along with the things he wants. But I'm willing to stop sleeping with him for you. I want to be with you."

"I don't understand what you're saying, and what changed. Are you saying you love me and you want me to be your boyfriend?"

"Yes, I want to be with you. I don't know what's going on—but there's something bigger than me, than you—when we're together, it's like everything else just melts away, and there's only us."

"I don't know. I have to think about it. I care about you but—"

She suddenly starts kissing me, and she's unbuttoning my jeans. Her hands dig into my flesh. My body instantly reacts like a wildfire, spreading out of control. I push her up against the hallway wall and slam my body into hers.

When I realize this is how the men she's usually around treat her—like a piece of ass, I back off and slow down.

I want to be different; I want to show her she means something to me.

"Please, make love to me," she begs.

"I can't. I don't want to share you with him," I whisper. I cup the back of her head and rest my forehead on hers, trying to slow my breathing as it passes over her perfect lips.

"You're not sharing me with him. I promise. Please believe me—I won't sleep with him again. I'll tell him we're not friends with benefits anymore." She grips my hips, tugging me a little.

"You didn't say you'd stop going on your weekly date with him. That's sharing." I shake my head, our foreheads sliding against each other.

"I'll stop that too. Please, God, I need you inside of me." Her voice is soft, urgent and full of a desperate longing for me. The way her eyes look at me, it's like she can't breathe without me.

My heart expands violently and pounds so hard, my chest heaves with each breath. Does she really want me? Want this now, here in my place?

"I don't know if I can pleasure you. You know I'm not that experienced and you want an older man." A pang rips through my gut as I say this. Insecurities flood me, and suddenly, I _do_ feel like a kid, trying to play house with her.

Why am I fighting it, though? This is what I want—what I've begged for repeatedly.

_Because you care about her, asshole. You want what's best for her, regardless of what your cock wants._

I close my eyes and inhale with a low, husky moan.

My hips shift forward.

So close. Just one little brush against that pussy . . .

_I can't. She'll dump me right after, and what'll happen then?_

I've barely been able to handle a handful of encounters around her without going psycho and being moody as fuck.

"You don't have to do anything. Let me do it all," she says. She sways her hips back and forth a little, digging my dick further between her legs.

"But I don't even have protection," I whimper. Haven't gotten laid in so long, and without a girlfriend, there was no need to have it around.

"I do," she says. "It's in my purse, remember? Please, let me have you. I need you so much."

"Are you using me?" I accuse. "Because I thought I could deal with that before, but now . . ."

"This is beyond physical. This is about finding the person I belong with, and that's _you_." She sighs and her eyes water. "It's about this connection we feel." Her teeth dig into her bottom lip then slide off. "You feel it, Edward. I know you do. That's the real reason you kept telling me to fuck you. You can't stand not connecting with me." She pauses and exhales. "I know because I feel the exact same way. Please . . ."

My heart slips from my ribs and lands somewhere south of my belt line.

I grab her around the waist and drag her into my bedroom. My lips are sealed to hers, and I unzip the back of her dress.

"God, I want you so bad," I say. "So fucking beautiful. All of you."

"I've never wanted anybody this bad, ever!" she says, almost echoing me.

"Fuck! So hard . . ."

I slip her dress to the ground and she's wearing white cotton boyshorts and a lacy, strapless bra. Her breasts move with each dragging, ragged breath she takes.

I exhale in a rush and stare at her, appreciating her lush curves; not touching.

"Turn around slowly," I say with a low husky pulse in my voice.

She frowns for a second, but she does what I've asked. As she slowly turns, she pulls her hair out of her comb and her gorgeous hair floats down her back. She drops the comb on top of her dress, slips her heels off and unlatches her bra, letting it fall as she continues her display for me.

"God, _you_ are the most beautiful woman in the world," I say, chest pounding furiously and my fingers curling, begging to grip, take hold and never let go. "There's no one sexier than you. No one."

She looks at her feet until she completes her circle. "You only think that because you haven't seen all of me yet." She pulls her panties off and says in an agonizing self-loathing tone, "Edward . . . I'm hideous."

"What? No, baby, you're stunning. More breathtaking than any college girl I've ever seen. It doesn't matter how old you are." My jaw flexes and my teeth line up, ready to grind.

I take her in my arms and peer in her eyes. She settles into my hold.

"But I've got stretch marks and this ugly scar."

She shows me her abdomen and there's a four inch horizontal scar above the pubic bone.

Holy shit! I know what this scar means!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Navigating in the Dark**

"You have a child?" I ask, choking on my own words, my gaze level.

"Yeah. She's gone this month; staying with her grandma in Florida." She blinks and leans back, like she's expecting me to start yelling at her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" My arms cross back over my chest, yet again and my head falls forward. The lack of trust, stings and my chest hurts.

"Because I don't tell guys I sleep with, about her. They don't usually notice the scar, or if they do, they don't say anything about it. I don't want to introduce them to her and have her confused by meeting the men I see." Her eyes tighten for a second, and when they soften, I can see years of neglect, rejection and abuse simmering in them.

My heart breaks for her, but covering this up?

"I don't know if I want to hear anymore of this." I angle away from her, trying to center my thoughts.

She starts putting her clothes back on, and says, "I just wanted to let you know why I have to bend over backwards for Jake. He's a divorce lawyer and deals with family law. He's got a lot of connections. He threatens me all the time to take Corinne away from me if he doesn't get his way. I can't lose her." She sniffs.

Suddenly, a thought hits me, and I inhale so quickly, I feel winded. "Oh, God. That was your daughter you were talking to on the phone at the grocery store the night I met you."

She nods.

No wonder she was glowing and so happy.

My mouth drops open and goes dry.

"It's okay, you don't need to say anything. I know how you must feel. I'll leave now . . ." She grabs her purse and leaves my apartment.

"A kid?" I murmur to myself. "I'm only twenty." I don't want to be a father figure or stepdad to anyone's kid. I have no idea how I would even begin to do that.

I stand rooted in place, my eyes flicking around the room, but not seeing anything. My head is shouting various things at me, and the only one that stands out is that I still want her.

I walk around in a daze after she leaves and try to get my bearings back. I want to throttle Jake for controlling and using her.

_God, I need to get out of here._

I grab a bus and stop by the flower shop on the corner of Eighth and Main and step inside. I have no idea what kind of flowers to get for her. Roses are too ordinary. She's unusual and I need something to reflect my appreciation of her. I browse the selection and smell something that reminds me of her—small trumpet shaped flowers that are incredibly fragrant and vibrant; bright yellow and crimson red.

I grab them and some purple flowers next to them that smell just as amazing. Their fragrances meld together deliciously, like a symphony of scents. I take the two bunches up to the front and ask, "Could you tell me what kind of flowers these are?"

"These red and yellow ones are freesia and the purple ones are called stock."

"They smell terrific. I'll take them." I'm certain these fit her, and she'll like them.

They aren't expensive though, and I hope that doesn't make the gesture seem insignificant or small.

"Do you want a vase and a note to attach to it?" she asks.

"Sure." I grab the blank card and start scribbling away without even thinking about what to say.

_Bella, _

_You are lovely and beautiful, and you've changed my whole world. I can't stop thinking about you. Please be happy. You deserve to be._

_Edward_

I tuck the card into the envelope and grab the flowers.

When I'm done, I run over to her house and put them next to her door, ring the bell and leave swiftly. I'm not sure I want to see her and risk making her upset. I only wanna do something nice for her by leaving her a small something. I hope it brings a little smile to her face and makes her feel better.

On the bus ride home, I can't stop smiling as I imagine her reaction.

Will she like them? Will my note make her smile or even laugh? Will she forgive me for reacting like such a prick when she told me about her kid?

Once I'm in my apartment, I don't bother to eat—I'm too wired. I shower and go lay on my bed, hoping some sane thought will come to me. That I can figure out a way to deal with all of this and still have her. I toss and turn, wondering what she's doing. Praying she's not with her ex, that she didn't turn to him and allow him to sleep with her since I turned her down.

I close my eyes and wish things weren't so complicated . . .

"_Edward, I love you," Bella moans in my ear, her naked breasts rubbing on my chest. "Touch me here." She opens her legs for me._

_I want more than touch; I want to eat her out and find a way inside of her. I crouch down between her thighs and start sucking, kissing and drenching her vulva with my saliva._

_She arches, moans and breathes hard._

_I place a finger inside of her and manage to find her G-spot very quickly._

"_You have the best hands," she rasps as she pulls her legs further apart with her hands._

"_You feel so good," I say, my eyes sliding up in my head. "So beautiful. So soft and wet." I open my eyes, kiss her clit and go back to stroking her insides with my finger._

"_Edward, I need you inside me. No more waiting. Fuck me now," she says, reaching for me._

_I slide myself up to a more upright position and then slowly start to tease her opening with my cock. I don't bother with a condom. I want my seed inside of her. I want her pregnant with my baby. If she has my child then she'll belong to me instead of that asshole Jake. I'll have the most current claim on her._

My baby. Mine! She'll have my kid, not yours!

"_We need a rubber," she says, sounding panicked._

"_No, baby we don't. You won't get knocked up," I promise._

"_Yes, I will . . . Wait, pull out for a minute." She tries to push me off of her. "Let's get one on you. I don't want to get pregnant," she says, frantically trying to get out from under me._

"_I'll pull out," I lie. "Come for me and then I'll withdraw." I plead with my eyes, my voice hoarse with so much want._

"_You promise?" she asks with big, innocent eyes staring into mine._

"_I promise. God, you feel so good." I slip back inside her, lean over and suck at her nipple like she taught me._

_Suddenly, I hear a little girl crying and knocking on the other side of her bedroom door._

"_It's okay, Corinne, I'll be there in a minute. Go back to bed," she yells at the door._

"_Do you want me to stop?" I ask as I continue to thrust, knowing damn well that I won't be able to stop until I've climaxed._

"_No, she'll be okay. You're with me, I'm all yours." She smiles._

_Yes! Finally. I'm the most important thing to her._

_I fondle her nipples and my breathing deepens, gets rough and labored._

_Almost fucking there. My balls tighten and flares shoot up my thighs, and I almost shake, I wanna come so bad._

_She reaches up and gropes my chest then grabs at my chest hair._

"_You're so hot. God, I love you," she moans. "I want this!"_

_Her words fuel my lust, my need to punish my body for wanting her so much, so I push harder, deeper and remember that she likes it fast and rough. So I dig my hands into her tits and shove myself inside her with such raw power, it pushes her a few inches up the bed with each pounding thrust._

_Before long, she's up against the headboard, grunting and staring at my cock digging its way inside her._

_I pick up the pace, but she's not progressing like I want her to. I pull out for a second and place a pillow under her ass to angle her up better so I can hit her G-spot with my head. I remember reading about good positions online to hit that sweet spot. I take her legs and put them on my shoulders, and as I slide back into her, I shove her knees together, forcing her thighs shut. It feels very tight and so fucking good I can barely breathe. I try to angle my cock up higher, and the moment I do, she screams out in pleasure._

"_God, oohhhhhh, Jesus, that's good, right there . . . uuuunnnnnn, don't stop." She bites her lip and grips my arms._

_I don't think I can hold out; I need her to come soon. My neck flexes back so I can get a deep breath to keep my orgasm at bay._

Just a few more seconds . . . She's almost there. Make it last for her.

_I drop my head and take my fingers, sliding them up and down her wet clit._

_A deep, grunt emanates out of her and she shakes lightly. "Fuck! Holy fuck! Too much," her head slams back and forth on the mattress. _

_I'm doing it. I'm the lover she needs. I'm pleasuring her; this woman who's been with men twice my age and have way more experience._

_Shit. My dick twitches, ready to blow._

_I switch my pummeling thrusts to small, rubbing movements inside her._

_But it doesn't seem to matter—she's so warm and tight, and I can feel that little knotted up G-spot inside her, so swollen and needy for me._

"_Edward, I love you, God, I love you, baby," she shouts and then a moment later she's convulsing, grunting louder and louder. "Unnnnhhhh, God yessss!" Her screams echo around the room and she thrashes around in the sheets._

_My cock hears her shouts and it screams back at her by launching my come into her._

"_Sssssfffffffuuuuugh," I release a tight string of air; my body breathless and wringing itself dry for her._

_Every muscle coils and pulses, my heart stops then suddenly spasms and swells._

_My chest caves in and I collapse on top of her, shoved so deep inside her, I doubt I'll ever be able to fully recover from this._

_I've never fucked a woman this way—never._

_I was rough. I was harsh._

_And goddammit, she loved it almost as much as I did._

_Shit. I'm an animal._

"_Gaaaawwwd," I groan, covered in sweat and feeling completely boneless. I still struggle to breath. I chuckle at what a mess I am, and how I'm still coming inside her. How is this possible?_

_She takes a deep breath, and her body goes rigid like she's frustrated or in a panic. "Get off!" she shouts. "Goddammit! You said you'd pull out! Now get your dick out of me!" _

_I can't. My cock won't let me. It has to spill all of the way into her before I can move, and it's still jerking around a little. I grip my arms around her waist, holding her tight to my body until I finish my last thrust and complete the cycle of pouring myself into her._

"_Oh fuuuuck," I breathe, my body finally sated, and I feel so fucking good, I could swear I'm high._

_I go limp and release her, but I still stay inside her. She may never let me do this again, and I want to soak up her pussy, every inch of it. I drape my body over her, waiting for her to call me a dickhead, but she stays motionless and quiet, breathing shallow._

_I take a deep breath, and before either of us can speak, the door is banging again and a little girl cries out, "Mommy, are you all right? Are you hurt?"_

Shit! I wake up drenched in sweat and swimming in my ejaculate. A little bit of light is streaming into my bedroom through the crack in the door from the living room. I closed the door to my room so I could think before I drifted off, but I wasn't intending on sleeping yet. I left the kitchen light on, too.

My body protests as I get up and head to the bathroom. I towel myself off, change into some clean boxers and go shut everything down. It's three thirty in the morning. I'm wide awake and stuck with my thoughts.

What the hell am I gonna do? This could actually happen—my dream of me not giving a fuck about her daughter as I obsess over being inside Bella. That's not okay with me. I'm not that asshole.

I rub my eyes and sit on my couch in the dark, unsure of what to make of this dream.

Is this who I am deep down inside? A ravenous beast for her?

Unwelcome thoughts come unbidden to my mind. Her breasts in my hands in the ocean, her pulling those silver pleasure balls out of her pussy to make way for my cock to enter her, her hands stroking my erection over my swim suit. The way she talked so honestly to me and made me feel alive. I run my hand through my hair.

"God! Stop it!" I say to myself and my shitty dick, already forming a semi.

I shouldn't want this woman, not like this. She's not really good for me. She could be if she got her life sorted out, but I don't know if she's willing to do that for me.

And a child on top of this who's not mine?

I close my eyes and settle my face in my palms, resting my elbows on my knees. This is a nightmare.

But only because I know I'd find a way to make it work—I want her that badly.

After several minutes of moaning like a pathetic hormonal fallopian tube, I get up and decide to put on my workout clothes.

Within minutes, I'm lifting weights in my spare bedroom.

My mind drifts.

_On nights Bella chooses to sleep over, her daughter can stay in this room. You can clear out a spot and put a little bed in here for her._

_Shit! That's not gonna happen. Stop thinking this way!_

My breath catches as I lift one of my final rounds with the chest press.

_Well, then why the hell do you have a two bedroom apartment? You don't want roommates. That hasn't worked well for you in the past. It's perfect. She can stay here. You want her to._

"Shut the fuck up," I grunt as I move to place the bar on the rack, my muscles straining to put it there.

I run my sweaty hands down my shirt to dry them.

Why do I keep imagining this little girl of hers, running around my place, lighting the whole apartment up, making it feel more like a home?

"Because you're sick, that's why, fuckhead," I say to myself, rolling my eyes and panting from the exertion of my workout.

I don't have money to play host to her and her daughter. I barely have enough money to feed myself.

I slump as I sit on the bench, feeling more wasted inside than on the outside as I beat the shit out of myself.

I grab the dumbbells and up the amount of weight on them.

Bella would not be comfortable hanging out here with her kid.

What am I thinking?

As I sweat, groan and count off my reps, my mind goes to even worse places—asking my parents to give me more money to help out. Even asking Emmett for a handout.

"Christ—you're such a pussy!" I cry out, my muscles burning with fatigue.

I can't do that. I'd get a job before I did that.

It would mean school might suffer, but I won't be a burden to anybody, and that's all that matters.

Bella might see me as a man if I could find a way to show her I can take care of her and her daughter's needs anytime they're with me.

Drops of sweat drip down my neck and the back of my hair moistens.

I drop the dumbbells when I've completed my set.

Where would I even get a bed for her little one?

Then I remember . . . Emmett tried to help me out in the beginning when I moved in here by offering to give me some of his stuff he didn't need, including a single size bed.

Does he still have it?

He didn't want money for it either.

I fist the bottom of my shirt and rub it over my neck to dry it off.

His parents are extremely generous, like mine. I bet he'd give it to me if I asked . . .

Ah dammit. I can't think this way—searching for handouts.

I drop to the floor and start pounding out pushups.

My head pounds, from the workout and these crazy ideas.

When I can't do anymore, I flip over to my back and set in on my grueling variation on crunches I've developed that works each set of muscles in the abdomen.

_Emmett doesn't mind. Stop being so proud and take it. He gave you this old weight set for your birthday, along with his old weight bench, plates, and bars. You took those and thanked him._

_Yeah, but only because I couldn't afford my own personal gym membership._

I finish my set, splay out and fling an arm over my abdomen.

What the hell am I going to do?

I sigh and close my eyes.

God, she's so perfect for me—everything I want.

I like kids. A lot.

It probably won't be a problem at all.

So, why does my chest ache so much over this?

Why do I feel like such a douche?

Shit. I'm supposed to see her at the gym today.

My hands ball up at the thought of how much I still want to grab her and make love to her until I can't remember how to do anything but hold her.

Does she have to be so thick in my veins, take up every inch of my heart?

I drag my body up, put my weights away, take a fast shower, and get ready for my day.

Distractions are what I need. I'll keep busy at school and forget about what she does to me.

I throw a fresh pair of workout clothes into my backpack for yoga class, just in case I do decide to show up.

I can't make that choice right now. Later, when I have some clarity, then I'll know what to do.

As I'm making my way over to my bike, I realize I still have two hours before my first class.

But I can't stay here. I'm already going stir crazy.

I close my eyes, and my brain goes into overdrive.

You know where she works. You looked it up, and she told you once before she goes in early at six thirty.

I barely register the fact I'm out the door, have locked up and am riding over to her office when my mouth suddenly goes dry.

I'll just stay across the street and make sure she gets inside safely.

_Yeah, like some sick stalking pervert. I bet that's what they all tell themselves until suddenly, only watching from a distance isn't enough._

_You wanna fuck her on the hood of her car and let others see, you asshole. You want to act out that dream you had last night, like a sick fuck!_

I pump my legs harder, ignore the warring images and messages in my head.

All I know is I'm compelled to see her, if only for a brief moment.

And I can make it there before she does.

The visions inside my head drift and change, morphing into her smiling, happy and ready to greet her day.

She told me she loves her job, and I believe her.

Her radiant smile will be worth this little side trip.

Just once—I need to see her in her element, not around Jake, or even around me, fucking her life up, putting her in a state of upheaval.

No complications today—just me watching her, and seeing what she's like in a place she loves to be.

_Like at home with her daughter? You wanna see that, too? You gonna sneak in her backyard and peer through her windows? This is seriously fucked up because you know that'll be your next move, genius._

I growl and ride faster, the wind almost bruising my cheeks with the way it whips past me.

One I arrive at her office, I find a spot across the street where I'm unnoticeable. There's a little alcove in the foliage, well shaded and makes blending in very easy.

I pick at a leaf as I stand and wait, hoping no one spots me and calls the police on me for loitering.

I roll the leaf around in my palm, waiting for her.

My eyes scan the parking lot across the way several times. I don't see either of her cars.

This is wrong. I should wait over there for her; be honest and upfront of why I'm here—apologize for my reaction yesterday. Did I hurt her feelings by not responding when she told me she had a kid? I didn't know what to say or do. I wish now I had listened to her better. She probably had more to say, but I was so shocked my head felt like it was on fire, about to explode.

I kick at a pebble on the ground, and drop the leaf. My legs twitch, begging me to carry me over there so I can see her face-to-face and speak to her like any mature man would do.

But no. I'm a pussy, hiding across the street.

I scowl at the ground, and my chest tightens.

I can't face her. Not yet.

I don't want to ruin her day.

While I'm waiting, my body suddenly jerks. An undeniable urge to get a closer view of her face, overpowers me. I have to know if she's okay.

I lock my bike up to the shady tree I'm hovering near and cross the street quickly. Shit! There aren't very many places to hide and be out of the way while I wait for her.

Somehow, I find an entry to the office next door where I can kind of peer around the corner. Man, I really look like a stalker now. This is ridiculous; she's going to see me for sure.

_I don't care! I have to know if she's okay._

_This is your fault. If you hadn't been such a prick yesterday, you probably could've talked to her more last night and even made love to her._

_She probably can't stand you and thinks you're shallow as shit after the way you blew her off._

Poor woman. She didn't deserve to be treated that way.

My eyes scrunch closed, and I bang the back of my fist into the wall behind me as my jaw clenches tight.

When did I become such an asshole?

My feet shift around, willing me to pace, but I keep to my spot.

Moments later, she drives up in her Volvo. Not her Roll's today?

I smile at the thought she isn't driving the car that matches Jake's.

But when I look over at her, she looks extremely sad.

I lean toward her and squint my eyes.

She's breathing hard and listening to music or something inside her car because she's parked and hasn't stirred. Her head's tipped down a little. She's not making any kind of move to get out. And then I see her wipe a tear from her eye with the back of her hand.

Oh, hell no. This is wrong! So wrong . . .

Every fiber in my being wants to hold her again and comfort her like I did in the gym. I want to caress her cheek and tell her I'm sorry, that it will be okay. That I love her and I won't hurt her ever again.

I kick the edge of the wall in front of me as I grip the bottom of my shirt.

What am I doing? My legs are moving, walking toward her.

But then I stop myself because I realize—what if she's crying because that snake hurt her again? What if he stayed with her last night and said mean things or used her body for his own self-gratification? Before I know it, I'm cursing under my breath and planning how I can pummel his ass! I want him hurting like he hurts her!

Finally she gets out of her car, still looking forlorn and depressed.

I move back to my spot where I was a moment ago.

She shuts her car door slowly, heavy like it takes all of her effort to move. She drags her feet over to the front door of her office but right before she opens the door, she looks in my direction. I duck back just in time. I don't think she saw me but it almost feels like she can sense my presence.

Does she? I know I would feel her near if she was watching me from a distance.

Shit! Is she attuned to me like I am to her?

She slowly disappears inside, shaking her head a little and looking even more despondent.

And then I do the unthinkable . . . I chase her. I wait a few moments as I take several deep breaths, and I step inside that damn door, following after her . . . Hoping I'll find the words to convey to her how sorry I am about what I did last night.

**A/N:**

**For my dear friend who's having a tough time. I'm here for you, I care about you. You know who you are, and you know I think the world of you. I hope your days and nights get better…**

**Love,**

**Chanse**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Coming In, Out of the Cold**

She walks through the hallway and her stride is so different this morning. It's very stiff, not fluid at all. She seems slumped almost, like her confidence has been beaten out of her.

I cringe.

My fingers twitch, I want to hold her so bad. I can't stop myself from following her.

Like a silent predator, I step quietly down the hall a few feet behind her. All she has to do is turn around and she'd see me stalking after her.

She keeps a steady pace though and her eyes stay forward, marching on, straight down the hallway. It's almost like she's going through the motions and has stopped caring about the world around her.

I've never, ever seen her look like this. She seems . . . defeated.

Fuck. I hold my breath.

Is this my fault?

_Oh, God, Bella, I'm sorry . . ._

My heart swells, and my eyes sting.

I can do better—be better for her. I have to.

She steps through another set of doors, and my pursuit has ended. I can't go back there. It's for employees only.

As I stop and stare at the door, a blonde woman comes rushing me at me through them.

"Look, I don't know who you are, but I saw you standing across the street watching her. Leave now—and I won't call the cops," she says.

I blink and clear my throat. "God, no. She's . . . Well, she knows me. I just wanted to make sure she's all right. She had a rough weekend, and—"

"And _what_? You thought showing up unannounced at her work would be a good idea? Christ!" She sets her hands on her hips and glares at me.

"I'm sorry you thought I was here to . . ." My eyes shift to the door. "I just need a favor. Can you check on her—see if she's okay?"

"Why should I do anything for _you_?" Her nostrils flare.

"It's not for me; it's for her. She has a douche for an ex, and he was a total asshole to her this weekend. I guess I kind of got in the middle of it and made things worse. I wanted to apologize to her, but since I'm here, and I can't get back there to see her, can you do it for me?" Her jaw clenches and I back away. "Please? She means a lot to me, and I can't stand thinking he might've hurt her."

She sighs and rolls her eyes.

"You think she's hurt?" she asks.

"I don't know. I didn't get to talk to her as you saw. I only noticed the look on her face and she seemed pretty upset."

"Why don't you talk to her yourself? Come in with me, and I'll show you her office, but I'm warning you," she grabs out her badge to swipe at the panel on the door, "if you hurt her, I'll bust your knee caps off, and you'll have to crawl out the door to leave this place."

I nod. "I can handle that."

She scowls.

My face drops. "The seeing her part—not the bloody legs and crawling part."

She smiles for a second and runs her badge through.

The door clicks and she opens it.

She strolls right through it, taking off at a rate I didn't think possible for someone in such high heels.

My mouth goes dry as I follow along behind. Will Bella freak if I step into her office? What am I thinking? What if she doesn't want to see me? I'd be bothering her at work: the one place she doesn't have to see me if she doesn't want to. I've invaded her one private spot, taken away her security blanket. Here I am thinking I'd never hurt her or do anything to upset her and yet I'm shoving my fat foot in the door when she might want it to be closed forever. What. Am. I. Doing?

My breathing goes ragged and my hands go cold. I flex my fingers, but it doesn't help.

And, fuck, I have to see her, even if it means walking past her office briefly to see she's now back to her normal, smiling self.

"I'm Rose by the way. And, yes, I have thorns." She smirks then points the way.

"Edward," I reply and nod.

She blinks and says, "I'm sorry, I can't go with you and watch the fireworks. I need to get to work. Oh, and, Edward?"

"Yes, Rose?" I keep my distance. She's kind of scary.

"I heard her talking the other day to her ex on the phone, and she told him she was gonna keep seeing a younger guy she was with, that he needed to get over it because she loved this person. Sorry if this is unwelcome news." She smiles as if she knows Bella was in all likelihood talking about me.

"Thanks, I owe ya." I grin back.

She smiles even wider. "I kinda figured you were the guy when I looked out my office window and saw the way you were watching her. Good luck." She walks away.

I have no idea what to say or do. I take a few deliberate, cautious steps toward Bella's office with massive glass windows. I don't want to upset her further.

With a loud exhale, I finally realize I'm being an absolute pussy. I can see her if I want to. Isn't it common decency to check on someone I've had a recent argument with to make sure they're okay?

Of course it is. I suck in some air, hold it and start moving in her direction again.

I quicken my pace before I lose my resolve to see her, and as I walk up to her office and peer inside, it's empty. There's nobody here. I step inside and debate if I should wait for her or not.

And then I hear footsteps approaching out in the hall, and I panic. I leave and don't look back.

I have no idea if it was her behind me, I didn't stop to find out. I left without a word, no note for her, to apologize for my behavior yesterday.

I get on my bike and ride away, feeling even worse than before I got here. Now I know she's unhappy, and it could possibly be because I was so calloused to her the day before.

Fucking hate myself for being such an ass.

As the wind is biting at my face and the cool breeze is unsettling me, reminding me of her shivering in her bikini yesterday, my eyes narrow. I can fix this. I'll definitely apologize to her at the gym today. I'll tell her I'm sorry, but I need some time to process the things she told me.

My legs pump harder, and I breathe in short, spastic bursts.

The nervous energy radiating off me, makes me want to punch something, so I keep channeling that feeling into pushing myself harder on my bike.

I fly so fast, I arrive at school quicker than I ever have.

While I'm locking up my bike, I see Emmett heading to his class. We decided to take summer school together and we synced up our schedules as closely as we could, thinking I could bum a ride from him every day. But since I've now started obsessing over Bella and plan to head straight from school to her yoga class, he can't really help me out.

"Hey Emmett," I holler at him and wave.

He approaches me. "Hey, man! How are you?"

Does he really want to know? _Well, I suck as a human being really. I've hurt the woman I love because I'm too afraid of the fact she has a kid. She finally turned to me and said she'd shut down her ex-husband who is a greedy, selfish pig, but instead of me accepting her offer to be with me and give myself the opportunity to show her the love she deserves, I've decided to run like a coward and let her return to her former way of self-destructive behavior. How are you?_

Maybe not. I'm not one to unload on people like that. I keep that shit to myself.

I opt to ignore the question completely.

"Having an off day," I tell him. "And I don't need a ride home after school today. I'm hitting the gym."

"Yeah? Me, too. My morning's been crazy as shit—I'll be hitting the gym as well." He scratches his neck and sighs. "I slept with this chick last night, and she went all psycho on me this morning. She locked me out of my apartment when I was dressed in only my boxers."

My left eyebrow pops up. "Sounds like a nutjob."

"She is, but she gives great head. I found a way in through one of the windows, and she made it up to me." He grins.

"You are so sick!" I chuckle.

"Yeah, but at least I'm gettin' laid." He slaps my back. "And you look like shit—definitely a result of not gettin' any. Time you did something about that. Find a girl at school today, take her home. Better than a gym workout—I promise." He smiles and takes off.

I head to class, go through the motions and fail to stop thinking about Bella and worrying she might still be hurt. There's no way I can ever follow Emmett's advice; not now that I know her. No other woman compares.

All day long, I do the things required of me, but it's hollow somehow. My goals now seem to lack purpose. So what if I get good grades and graduate with honors? Who cares? So I have a career in the end I am good at, but who do I come home to at night? No one.

My heart sinks lower.

I've never felt so lonely in my life. I never cared before or thought about being a bachelor for the rest of my days. I imagined working and being happy to contribute to society but now I know who I wish I was coming home to. It's more important than any of the rest of this.

As soon as class is finished I run to my bike and ride as quick as I can to the gym. If she arrives early, maybe I can talk to her for a little bit and explain why I reacted the way I did.

Will she forgive me or even look at me?

God, the thought of her refusing to be near me, makes my heart freeze.

Faster. Must get there.

My legs burn and pump as hard as they can go.

The minute I'm there and my bike's locked up, I head to the locker room and shower real fast so I'm not such a wreck when I see her since I was riding like a maniac and sweating like crazy. As soon as I'm ready, I check to make sure she isn't here already. I look in the studio and it's empty. I walk over to the ladys' locker room and listen at the door carefully for movement or talking. Silence and void.

I take a deep breath and run my hands through my hair.

She'll be here. She will.

I settle in the yoga room, grab a mat and do a few warm up stretches, glancing at the door every few seconds, searching for her.

People start slowly trickling in for class.

Shit. Being at the front, so visible, probably isn't the best idea. It might frighten her off if she sees me, and she may not come inside. So I move to the back of the room. Now, my eyes constantly draw to the window so I can look out in the hallway for her. I get up and go get a drink, trying to look totally natural and innocent. No Bella anywhere.

Dammit! She might not show, and I'll be stuck in this class without her.

A pain rips through my chest.

What was I thinking coming here? Shoulda gone to her house to apologize, not hide in the back of the yoga room like a coward.

I head back into the yoga room and check the clock.

Shit! Class starts in five minutes. She seems like the type that's always on time. Did she see me and turn around? Maybe she noticed my bike? I should have secured it in back of the gym so she wouldn't see it.

I roll my eyes at myself and huff quietly so I don't bring attention to myself.

The teacher walks in and goes ahead and starts, "Since there are so many of us here waiting to get started, I figured we'd go ahead and begin."

I bite back a growl.

My chest tightens; now I won't be able to talk to Bella before class, that is, if she shows up at all.

Each time someone walks in, I struggle to keep from frowning or glaring at them simply because it isn't her.

Just as I'm beginning to lose hope, in she walks. She looks fine. Not sad, not angry, not happy, just Bella. She grabs a mat and plops it down right dab, smack in front of me.

My heart jump-starts. She doesn't hate me! She can tolerate being in my presence. The small thought enters my mind that maybe she wants to be near me so she can see how I'll react?

I lean toward her and scoot my mat a little closer when she's not paying attention.

Fuck, she smells amazing.

I watch her carefully as she begins stretching, seeing if I can catch her gaze, but it seems like she refuses to acknowledge me or look in my general direction. Did she see me here? She had to have.

Oh great. Is she really here in spite of me; to prove a point?

I decide to make the first move. "Good morning Bella," I say quietly so only she can hear me.

She turns to me, eyes blazing. Shit! She's pissed. "Oh, now you're talking to me?" she asks, her posture stiff.

What the hell? I brought her flowers didn't I? Wasn't that a gesture of goodwill?

"I never stopped talking to you," I reply. Jesus! She baited me, and now instead of saying sorry, I'm practically yelling at her and acting like her ex. I take a deep breath and swallow it down, along with my fucked up pride. This is _not_ me. I am not _that_ douche of a man.

"You didn't call me, didn't stop to talk to me when you dropped off the flowers."

"I . . ."

"You threw my car keys in my backyard and when I yelled out for you to stop, you ignored me! I showed you my body and you ignored me some more. You seem to be saying very clearly you don't want to talk to me. I can take a hint." She turns away from me.

"I'm . . ." _Sorry!_

"Okay, class. Let's start with our sun salute," the teacher says.

Bella's so rigid, it looks like she's turned into a statue. Eventually, she has to loosen up from the yoga, right?

My eyes follow her as she executes the teacher's instructions and acts as if I don't exist. I can feel her cold shoulder being cemented in place. Is this it? Has she said all she's going to, and now she's shutting me down? My fingers flex. I want to grab her, throw her over my shoulder, run away with her and force her to listen to me.

Instead, I watch her with my sad, pathetic, longing eyes, my heart in my throat and my head stuck in a vision where I'm with her and so happy, I can barely think straight.

_Bella, I'm sorry. I love you. Please don't be mad at me . . . _

She bends over at the waist to touch the ground with her palms, and as I tilt my head up to see if she's gazing at me from between her legs, I notice her eyes are sealed shut, tight.

God, she can't stand to even look at me anymore.

I want to storm out of the room and never come back, but instead I continue to drink in her presence.

Why can't I leave and just move on? It's not like I know her that well, but, fuck, she's amazing.

Everything about her screams out "My perfect woman!"

Even though she's upset with me, I can't get enough of her. She's actually really hot when she's pouting.

What the hell is wrong with me? I don't want to get off on her pain. I'm sick!

She continues to stretch and keep her eyes shut when her body faces mine. Her mouth has pressed into a tight grimace, and her body is so stiff and full of anxiety, she looks like she could explode any minute, so I keep my distance.

The next twenty minutes pass without her looking at me; talking to me. My hands shake and the tendons in my neck ache from being so tight due to my jaw clenching.

She's right in front of me, and I've never felt further from her. I have nothing at this moment. No way to talk to her, no way to get through to her.

I blow out, mentally exhausted from patiently waiting for her to show some sign of wanting to talk to me.

The teacher says, "Grab a partner. We're going to do those relaxation exercises again. Don't forget, Monday is when we start our new Partner Yoga class. There are still slots available if you want to join us."

I don't even ask Bella, it's not an option to allow her to have another partner. I'm her only partner and she knows it.

She finally looks at me as I approach her. Without a word, she extends her hands out to me so I can lower her down. The moment I touch her skin, there's that familiar buzzing, tingling sensation, ripping up my arms like a freight train coursing through my veins.

She jumps at my touch, too.

_You feel this, Bella. I know you do._

I lean toward her and take a deep whiff. Heaven. My chest heats and my heart speeds up.

Can I talk to her now? Explain?

She inhales deeply like she's purposefully smelling me as well. Her arms break out in goose bumps.

God I love that—and all of her. And fuuuuck! Why do our bodies react this way? It's beyond our control.

She lies down and stares at me with longing and so much pain and sadness, it takes my breath away. I wish I could lay on top of her and kiss away all of her sadness. I start to open my mouth to speak, and as soon as she sees I'm making that move, her eyes are shut tight again. She doesn't want to hear what I have to say?

I huff but keep partnering her.

"Begin at the feet this time. Start with the big toe and work in small circular motions." The teacher starts throwing out massage suggestions.

I grab Bella's foot and immediately, I'm hit with the memory of how I sucked her toes and made her want me. I've never done anything remotely like that for anyone else, but she makes me want to do whatever it takes to make her happy.

And in that moment, when I did that, she was mine, only thinking about me. I wish I could get her into that head space again. If the class wasn't so full right now, I'd suck on her toes again.

Her foot wiggles as I massage and stroke her foot. My hand drifts up her leg absentmindedly. Her skin is so soft, I can't help allowing my hands to roam.

She relaxes under my touch. Her fists unclench, her breathing slows and her shoulders slump slightly. With a soft sigh, her mouth drops open, and her eyelids smooth out. I feel better, too; touching her is somehow healing. It wipes away all of the crazy, roller coaster emotions I've been feeling today; makes it all seem so silly and petty.

All that matters is this woman and how I can't keep away.

I glance around the room and everyone's completely engaged in what they're doing with their partner, so I go for it. I lean over and pull her toe into my mouth. I start out slow—very slow. My tongue softly caresses the pad and smoothes its way up to the tip. I sweep it over and over again and massage her heel and arch with my hands as I pull her leg toward me with a little pressure.

Her breath hitches, her eyelids are moving around. A second later, and her hands lightly grip the mat under her. My heart pounds as I watch her reactions to me. Her leg shakes a little, and that buzzing feeling I got when I touched her hand, is now exploding in my mouth. It travels straight to my head making me high and euphoric.

"Uuuummmgh," I groan, low and husky.

I want more; I pull a bigger portion of her into my mouth and my hands travel up her leg, massaging as I go. Her breathing is much deeper, ragged now. I grin at how she's struggling to keep still and then it happens . . .

Her eyes open; focus sharply on me. She has a feral, animalistic look that screams out, "Take me now, Edward!"

My cock is hard instantly and dancing around, trying to break free. She takes her hands, grabs mine and pulls me toward her. I drop her foot gently on the ground and follow her lead, dying to see what she wants from me. She puts my hands on her hips.

Shit! She's telling me what she wants; back to being my aggressive Bella.

I smile, and once more, glance around to make sure no one's watching us, and then I realize it's not what I think. She's not fulfilling a need—she's telling me to knock it off.

Oh God, could this suck any worse? The rest of the class is doing what she's trying to get me to do: they're fully engaged in hip therapy, hands on their partner's hips and they're massaging.

Fine, I'll fucking behave, or at least try to appear like I am.

I take my thumbs and push gently and knead into her hip flexors. She sighs. I know about that pressure point there; know what it will do to her. She wiggles a little, and I apply more force and circle it, playing with that erogenous zone.

I figure she's probably already turned on from when I was sucking her toes, so I'm hoping this will only add to it.

_Come on, Bella . . . Feel my touch—feel _me_. Feel what we do to each other._

As I get into a more upright position so I can really go at it aggressively, her eyes close again and her soft hands drift up my arms. She caresses my triceps in a very soothing manner.

"Hoooohhhhh," I breathe out a heavy, sexually tense sigh. She's touching me! My body spikes with adrenaline and loads up on testosterone because fuck if I've ever been this painfully erect. I squirm in my spot for a moment to try and get more comfortable.

It doesn't work.

"Move from the ribs to your partner's shoulders," the teacher yells.

I take the opportunity to grope her ribs for a second. It makes a nice transition as I slide my hands up to her breasts and lightly fondle them for a moment. She turns her head to the side, eyes still sealed closed and her face lights up for a fraction of an instant. A smile flashes quickly across her perfect lips.

Blood rushes through my thighs and swells my groin. Does she know how absolutely gorgeous that smile of hers is?

I move my hands up to her shoulders and try to figure out how I can sneak one of those quick feels in again without anyone noticing. I work on her shoulders as I straddle her waist. I don't bother to move to her crown like everyone else. Why would I do that? I want to be touching as much of her body as possible, and if I can trap her and pin her underneath me, then it's even better.

As I'm working on her collar bone and staring at her breasts, her hands suddenly move, slide up my knees and she lightly massages my inner thighs.

Damn—she's got me even harder for her.

"Ooohhhhhuuuuu," a light fluttery moan escapes my lips. My head tips back a little as I take in a quick breath, trying to get my mind out of the way so my body can absorb the sensations.

My head drifts back down; I try to clear it and focus, but I lose it as she gazes at me with a hungry look again. Does this mean she'll let me touch her again? I bite my lip and bare my teeth at her then go back to her breasts. Nobody notices or cares. Everyone else is too self-absorbed in what they're doing.

"More," she whispers.

"_So_ much more," I whisper back.

She tries to arch her back in pleasure, but I'm on top of her, keeping her in place.

"Okay, now for the head," the teacher shouts.

"I want to touch _your_ head," she says low and hushed, smiling deliciously at me and bites her lip the same way I am—like she wants to bite a hunk out of me in a tender, erotic spot.

I release my lip. "You can," I whisper back as I lick my lips and smile too. "Anytime."

I leave her breasts and travel my hands back to the nape of her neck. Her eyelids soften and droop. As I lean over her face, she has this expression while she stares at my chest, like she really wants to grope it. Is she thinking about playing with my chest hair? My dick twitches. I wish I had this damn shirt off so she could at least see it, dangling in front of her face like an appetizing piece of food.

"Ssssuuuuugghhh," she inhales deeply.

Smelling me? She sure as hell is dragging in long breaths and her eyes go even heavier.

Her hips wiggle for a second, and then she turns her head toward my right arm and lightly licks up the inside of my forearm. It tickles and burns as that electric charge tears up my veins again. I massage a little more and hum to keep myself from releasing a pained groan.

"So beautiful, soft—my Bella," I whisper as I let go.

The teacher has told us to switch.

Her eyes flutter open and she says, "I . . ."

What? She what? Loves me? Wants me? Can't stand me to touch her? _What_!

She goes silent, pushes herself up to sitting and adjusts her ponytail since I loosened it with my neck massage.

"What do you want Isabella?" I whisper.

"You," she says, looking sad like she's already lost me.

My heart beats uncontrollably and my head is about to explode! Both of them.

"Lie down," she says, smiling.

I throw myself down flat on my back fast as I can.

The moment my head is on the mat she starts massaging my chest. The teacher hasn't sanctioned this move but Bella doesn't seem to care. I pull my shirt down as tightly as I can so some of my chest hair is peeking up at the top of the collar in case she wants to touch it. She slides her hands up to my throat and strokes from my chin down to my collar bone. My chest hairs tingle and zing as her hands move over them and stimulate my flesh.

Her fingers scratch a little and her eyes rake over my body.

It's pretty obvious I've got a hard on for her.

At this point, I don't give a fuck. Let people see.

"I missed you." I saw her yesterday, but since it ended poorly, I missed not being able to spend time with her last night. It was my own stupidity that prevented it.

"Do you still want me?" she asks shyly in a hushed, secret tone. She tucks her head down and itches her chin with her shoulder.

"Yes. _God_—I never stopped."

She goes silent once more. Is that all she needs to know? Doesn't she want me to apologize and talk about what happened yesterday?

She moves her hands to my ribs, stretching, pulling and kneading at them. It releases a lot of energy and makes me work harder to breathe. There's something slightly erotic about having her pushing into my core like this. Her arms press hard and her weight goes into her hands. I love that she's not holding back.

She grunts and her neck flushes with her exertion.

The touching continues as she massages my shoulders, and I return the favor a little by caressing her arm. She runs her hands through my hair, my hand reaches up and brushes against her cheek and combs through her long, silky strands. She massages my temple, and I reach up and cup her chin as I trace my index finger along her bottom lip. She licks the tip of my finger as it passes over for a second sweep. Every sensation is electric and extremely arousing.

_Please come home with me . . . Give me a second chance._

"Thanks everybody. Great class today!" The teacher wraps it up and everybody around us rolls up their mats and grabs their stuff.

"Uuuungh," I groan. We're not alone in our own little world anymore.

"Let's go to your place," she suggests.

"Fuck yeah, let's go." I grab both of our mats, put them away quickly, take my bag, and her hand then head out the door.

She's mine, I'm hers and the world is ours . . .


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Bridging Gaps**

I park the car and say, "Wait here."

Her right eyebrow quirks and her lips purse, but she sits still.

I slip out of the car, shut my door and run over to her side and open it for her.

She gasps when I pick her up bridal style and make it obvious I intend to carry her like she's my bride to my front door.

She smiles. "Getting a little carried away?"

"Just go with it." I grin and kiss her nose while I shut the car door with my foot.

"You're gonna get a hernia, and then you'll need a walking can like me," she teases.

I chuckle. "Worth it."

"Worth explaining to your family that you hobble now because you insisted on carrying a fat old lady to your front door who was capable of walking there herself?" The tip of her finger runs down the bridge of my nose and she studies my face. "It's really unnecessary."

"Says you, woman. I have a lot to prove here, so might as well start off right." I chuckle when she honks my nose like I'm a kid.

"Well, at least you know how to impress a girl and make her feel special." Her palm rests on my chest and then her head follows.

"Fuck, how do you get your hair to smell this good?" I rest my chin on the top of her head and take a deep whiff.

"Mothballs and Bengay. Look it up." She laughs.

I grip her tighter. "Mothballs my ass. I know which balls you're talking about . . ." God, I hope she's wearing them now. She said she wears them to yoga.

My feet shuffle the last few steps to get to my place as her weight starts to bear down on me, and my arms fatigue.

"Getting tired?" she asks.

"No. Fuck, no. And don't you dare say you're old and fat again. That shit pisses me off, since it's an outright light." I pinch her ass with my right hand.

She squirms a little. "Whatever you say. I suppose your eyesight's better than mine." She pats my chest.

"Exactly—Edward—your young stud, knows best."

"Pfft . . . Okay, now I know you're getting carried away."

"Always—for you? Always carried away. Can't help myself." I slide her down out of my arms and kiss her cheek then unlock my front door. I open it. "Come on in. Make yourself at home."

She grins and looks at me like she thinks I'm adorable.

I pinch her ass once more.

She yelps this time and angles back as she glides into my place.

God, she's beautiful.

I step inside, shut the door, and even though I'm tired, I scoop her up again and smile so hard, I'm sure I'm all teeth.

"I wanna show you something," I say and set her down on the couch.

She swallows. "Sure."

I pull my shirt off. Her eyes go wide. I point at my chest; her brows immediately push together and her face scrunches.

"What're you pointing at? A new chest hair you grew overnight?" Her head wobbles and she smirks.

"Nope."

"Don't tell me I need some grandma glasses already." She groans. "Could I feel any fucking older around you?" She shakes her head and snickers.

"Guess again," I say.

"C'mon, Edward. I'm getting older by the minute. I didn't come here to play games." Her smile vanishes.

"It's my heart; it's yours. I want you to have it."

Her face pales, and she swallows really hard.

Out of nowhere, she stands up, crushes her lips to mine and her hands are frantic, ripping at my pants.

I move at a slow, leisurely pace, and she breathes harder, sounds frustrated as she keeps trying to get me completely naked.

In time I will be. For now, I pace her backward through the hallway, over to my room.

"Nice and slow," I whisper, my eyes burning into her and my forehead resting against hers.

I gradually peel her cami off.

"I don't know how to do slow," she responds. "I know I said you'd probably be all rushed and rough, but I don't think you understood what I meant."

The left side of my mouth twists up into a lopsided smile. "What did you mean then?" I ask, pretending to be all innocent and naive.

"I was referring to young men that don't bother to get the woman ready or get her off. I like it rough—I like it hard, fast, and dirty."

My dick bobs in appreciation of her words.

"Well, tough—woman. You already said slow, and that's how we're gonna do this. I've already screwed shit up with you once. I've been trying to apologize for yesterday. I was such a dick and—"

She covers my mouth with hers, and I'm stifled.

I pull away. "I'm trying to apolog—"

She covers my mouth once more.

I kiss her hard, press her up against the wall and cage her in. This time when I pull away, I'm able to keep my head far enough back, she can't shut me up by kissing me.

"Will you listen to me for five goddamn seconds?"

"No. You don't need to apologize, and I don't wanna hear it."

"Tough shit. You'll listen."

Her eyelashes flutter and a look of confusion floods her eyes. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"Like hell I didn't."

I rest my left leg up against her right and lean into her, tracing a whispering line down across her right breast with my fingertips. "So beautiful, and so worth saying sorry and admitting when I've been an idiot. I get crazy for you, and I overreact." I blow across her chest and goose bumps flourish across her skin. "You didn't deserve that. So, let me say how sorry I am."

Her eyes mist. "So fucking sweet—I don't deserve you."

"You deserve to be happy, and I can be the man to get you there." I kiss the corner of her mouth and move up to her eye, caress it softly with my lips. "Make you so damn happy, you can't even remember what it was like being mistreated . . ."

She releases a soft gasp, and her hands drift up my arms and land on my shoulders.

"I wanna try . . . Please, Bella. Let me . . ."

A dying groan escapes her and she slumps a little against the wall like she can't keep herself upright.

"God, Edward . . . You don't know what you're doing to me. I'll go to hell for this," she teases, her eyes heavy, her lips parted as her breathing goes ragged.

"I hope I'm making you wet, and making you see you don't have to fight this or me." I slide her pants down her legs.

Her hands fly down to her C-section scar, and I peel them away.

Those dark eyes of her turn to shame and fear.

"Don't cover up. There's no need. So beautiful, so damn sexy," I say, drifting my fingers down her abs, and then linger at her scar, caressing it.

Her pupils dilate and her breath catches when I pull her panties down.

I drop down to my knees and glide my hands up her legs then kiss my way up her right thigh. I head toward her scar.

"No; God, no, please. Don't kiss me there," she whimpers and closes her eyes like she's mortified I'd even consider it.

"Yes, you need it, and I want to show you how beautiful you are to me." I keep kissing her and drifting my hands across the mark and move across her stretch marks she deems repellent.

"I can't take it, please stop." Tears roll down her cheeks. "You can't want this. You should be with a young girl, who's not used up and marred and mangled so bad. You don't deserve my old, worn-out body. You need an unblemished, flawless stunning woman."

"That's you. You're perfect to me, and I love that you're a mom, that you earned these marks from carrying a baby inside you."

My tongue darts out and tastes her there.

"There's nothing sexier than you."

She groans and her left leg shakes. I rest a palm there to still her.

Her hands push mine away again, and she tries to cover her faults as best she can.

I stand up, loop my hands through her arms and push them around me, so she's hugging me.

"You don't get to tell me what's beautiful. I can see who you really are, and you. Are. Stunning. End of story."

Tears dot her lashes and she exhales in a sweeping rush. "But I . . ."

I cover her mouth with my finger.

"No. I love seeing you—all of you."

Her shoulders drop.

I look her in the eye. "Sssshhhh, I wanna touch you there. I want to love you. It's all right, let me touch you. I love feeling you, all of you and knowing you grew a life inside of you—fuck! It turns me on so much, it gives me chills."

Her eyes go wide.

I remove my finger from her mouth.

"That's hard to believe," she whispers.

"You will. Eventually you'll realize I don't lie, and especially not to you." I cup her cheeks. "You mean too much to me."

"But I'm all broken, not beautiful."

I caress her cheeks with my thumbs. "I've never seen a more beautiful body. I love every inch of you. It makes me high to touch you and look at you. I can't _stop_ touching you, and I won't ever stop doing it as long as you'll let me."

Tears careen out of control down her cheeks, splashing on her breasts.

"These words can really hurt me if you don't mean them."

I blink and smile. "I do mean them." I kiss her softly.

"But someday you may see—really see—and where will I be then?" She huffs for a second and looks away from me. "Here I was afraid I'd use you and break you, and now . . . Fuck!" She slaps her palms on my shoulders. "No one's ever said anything like this to me. Not even Jake. I'm not pretty, I'm nothing special, I'm just Bella." Her eyes drift back to mine. "But then you come along and act like I belong on a goddamn pedestal. What if I fall off?"

"Then I'll catch you while I'm at your feet, worshiping."

"I'm not kidding. I can't take it when you realize I'm old and not nearly good enough and walk away."

I pound my hands into the wall next to her head. "Look at me, Bella, and really see me." She blinks and her jaw snaps shut. "I'm not a lying fucker. And I won't ever change my mind. I've never felt this way about anybody. Even if you weighed three hundred pounds and had warts on your lips, you'd still be insanely hot to me because I see inside you. But lucky me," I chuckle, "the outside matches the inside, and _you are_ breathtaking."

She sighs, tips her head back and hums as her eyes shut. "God, this is so confusing . . ."

I kiss her neck. "It doesn't have to be."

"Yes, it does."

"No." I finish taking off the rest of my clothes, carry her over to my bed and gingerly place her across it.

She flings an arm across her face, and I kiss it then peel it back off.

"I know you don't wanna hear this, but, God, I think I'm falling completely in love with you."

She gasps and goes stiff.

"I know it's too soon, but when I picture the woman I want—it's you. When I see another woman nearby, I wish it was you. When I talk to someone, I wonder where you are and what you'd have to say about the subject we're on." I drag the back of my hand down the outline of her cheek. "Now do you believe me—that I don't care about a few stretch marks and a surgical scar?"

She nods, but barely.

"Good." I stroke between her thighs and that familiar buzz in my fingers is stronger than ever. "I fucking love touching you, almost as much as I love kissing you." I dip my head down and part her lips with mine and insert my tongue.

She greets me with soft, lush strokes, and I lower myself closer, and my fingers brush across her pussy.

Her hips buck.

I smile and keep stroking at a slow, tender pace.

A whine builds in her chest, and I release her mouth, only to roam down to her tits.

I suck in her left nipple and flick my tongue across the tip while it's still in my mouth.

She moans.

I do it again and suck a little harder.

She fists the bedspread.

My mouth moves down her body and my tongue replaces my finger at her clit.

I push my finger inside her and am met with a clanking sound. My eyes roll up in my head for a moment.

"Oh fucking thank God!" I rasp. "You wore them."

I lick my lips and smile.

She lifts her head and looks at me. "Yeah, I did. Should I have left them out?"

"Fuck no! I love that you're this naughty." I growl and bare my teeth. A second later, I've looped the string out like I did last time, and I nip, tug and play with it, biting it, making the balls chink together inside her.

"I'm getting pretty wet," she says.

"Creamy, and so delicious." I lick the string and she whimpers.

"You're trying to kill me with foreplay?"

"I'm trying to enjoy every ounce of a sexy mama, spread out on my bed. I'm a lucky bastard, and I know it."

She chuckles and her hips shake.

I toy with the string a little more. "I love that sound—never getting sick of it."

"I feel like I just gave a puppy a new chew toy."

"Cutting my teeth on you, woman," I say, and nip at her labia.

I move to kneeling, and without another word, I edge my dick inside her.

Fuck—the balls, the tightness—I may not last.

I close my eyes and slowly push half way in.

She makes this low, deep grunting sound that makes me almost cry, it sounds that sexy.

"God, fuck, not only can I feel 'em, I can hear 'em too. Love this," I say, moving with a steady, even pace, making sure not to go too deep inside.

_Chaaachig, chaaachig, chaaachig._

The balls roll around, and the sound's mesmerizing, like her.

"You taste amazing, too," I tell her and suck in my lips. "Can you feel them moving?"

She smiles, nods and touches her tits.

"You're tight as fuck, and so wet . . . You feel amazing."

I move her hands out of the way and fondle her breasts for her.

She meets my thrusts and a few times, tries to speed it up, take me deeper, but I won't let her.

I kiss her neck, breathe on her chest, and her pussy somehow gets tighter when she slides one leg between mine so she's a little off to my right side.

Well, fuck—she's gonna make me blow.

I use my leg to shove hers back out to where it was.

She whimpers then gropes my chest. Her eyes pout and she shifts to the side again like she's going to move that leg back.

Instead of allowing her to do that, I let go of her breasts, and part her legs wider with my hands.

I circle her clit with one hand, and rest her right leg in the crook of my left arm.

It opens her wider.

So good . . .

I could go really deep in this position, but I won't. My neck strains as I keep from slamming myself all the way in. I keep the strokes short and shallow.

She sucks at my chest, and licks my right nipple.

My dick hardens even more from the way she's touching me.

"Kiss me, please!" she suddenly says.

I release her leg. She wraps it around my ass and presses her heel into me, spurring me on.

My mouth latches onto hers and as my tongue slips inside, she pants in my mouth.

I hug her tight into me, unable to get close enough. "I'm never gonna let you go," I whisper into her mouth and then slowly slip my tongue back in.

Her hands roam up my back and into my hair. "Unnnf, God, your smell is getting me off." She licks my lips.

"Yours, too. I can't get enough of your scent. It makes me crazy."

I pull out and recall all the things she's said to me—her concerns she's shared.

Her G-spot. I can fucking find it.

I press two fingers inside her and curl them up like I'm trying to hit her belly button.

The second I hit it, I know because this shrill, erotic strangled sound emanates out of her, and her chest rises off the bed.

"Oh God, your hands!"

"What about 'em?" I tease.

"How do you do this to me?" she asks all out of breath. "Each time you touch me, it's like . . . I mean, I'm a licensed massage therapist for fuck's sake, and I know my hands don't feel anywhere near as fantastic as yours do."

"It's all you."

"Get back inside me," she pleads.

"I'm not done touching you," I say.

"Now!"

I press that spot a few more times until she's sopping, and then I slip back inside.

She's softer than before, but she's still really tight.

Those balls are doing their job.

"If I hurt you, tell me immediately," I say my voice breaking, and then I shift my hips up, and start going harder, faster and good Lord, I know I'm being a little rough, but I've been holding back, and I don't think I can anymore.

"Why are you saying this?" she asks.

"I've . . . had complaints before about my size when I go deep and hard," I say, turning my head away from her.

I grunt and finally . . . Fuck yes! I go as deep as I can, and she sighs.

She fucking sighs.

"Please, I don't wanna worry I'm hurting you." I hold my breath for a second and stay in place. "You'll tell me if it's too much?"

"Yes, I'll tell you," she says, sounding confused.

I grip her ass, tip her hips up, and it's the deepest I've ever been in a woman.

So much pressure from the balls, and from her squeezing me inside, and I thrash a little, and my legs threaten to shake as my orgasm nears.

"Are you okay?" I ask, my voice breaking.

"God, your cock is huge! You feel so big." She squeezes me inside her again.

I whimper and about lose it.

"Am I hurting you?" I grit.

"Fuck no! I'm gonna come already. God, you fucking . . . feel too good!" A gush trickles out of her. Am I hitting her G-spot at this angle? I read this was the angle to get it. I try to slow down so she can really feel me slip past it. She groans, "Oh God, so good, I love it!"

She exhales, and it's harsh and biting.

"Oh Christ!" So close. I've gotta get her there like I promised I would. I slide one hand up to her breast and twist and lightly tug her nipple the way she showed me. I'm barely hanging on. "My body's loving you—feel how my body loves you? Soft and gentle . . ." I hold back. I'm still going deep, but slower now and more controlled so I don't come before her.

Fuck this is hard. My jaw clenches, and I pull a little more on her nipple.

She hisses and breathes harder.

The second her pussy spasms, I'm done.

And, goddammit, fuck it all! I don't have a condom on. I forgot to ask her for the one in her purse, and I'm too late, I'm coming, falling hard!

She twists her hips up into me, keeping our hips flush.

"Oh, oh God, oh fuuuuuck!" she moans; grips me tight with her pussy and with her hands on my back. Her face contorts and her breath hitches. She shakes, her hips roll, and she falls apart.

I respond by holding her as firmly as I can while I flood her pussy and hold back a scream of pleasure.

When we both unfold and our breaths slow down, I pull up a little so I'm not crushing her. I support myself with my hands.

Her heart rushes beneath me, pulsing on my chest.

Fuck—feel it fly.

I tuck her up into me. "That was—I don't think there're words. I loved being able to finally touch all of you." I sigh and my heart still races. I lower myself down on top of her and softly kiss her shoulder and neck along the way. "I loved watching you come. It was incredible, and it felt so fucking good, the way your body was gripping my cock."

"Hooohhhhh," she blows out a contented sigh; a lazy grin in place. "I know, I felt the same way about you."

I pepper her cheek lightly and whisper, "I can't get over how mind blowing that was. It was better than I could have ever imagined. I love being with you."

She wraps her arms around me, tucking her face into my chest.

"And I love what you did to me. I've never had a man make love to me like that. It was . . . beyond amazing. You're a genius in bed, and you're only twenty. How the hell did that happen?" She chuckles and her whole body shakes.

I kiss the top of her head and hum.

I shrug. "I just followed your body cues and listened to what it told me. I wanted to pleasure you. Show you how I feel about you."

I roll onto my side and take her with me.

"I don't know what you were doing, but you were so soft inside of me, like velvet. I loved it." Her warm hand settles on my hip ."At the end, it felt like you were in contact with my whole body the entire time."

"I want to always be touching you."

"I could definitely get used to that." She yawns and stretches.

I want to ask her about the lack of condom, but she seems unworried, and I don't want to ruin the mood, so I keep it to myself.

She's probably on birth control and only wanted a rubber to guard against diseases.

I rock her a little in my arms and get cozy.

After what seems like an hour of us caressing, holding each other and soaking up each other's presence, I get up to go get a hand towel so she can clean off.

She gasps when I return with it.

Her eyes are straight on my dick.

Oh shit. Should've told her.

I knew I should have, but, fuck, I didn't want it to deter her.

"Sorry," I mutter.

"God," she breathes.

I pass her the towel and turn away.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: A Good, Clean Brain Wash**

"Oh Jesus," I mutter under my breath.

Her eyes are popping out of her head. She's freaking out. I know that look; I've seen it before. I've had problems with other women being unhappy I'm uncircumcised. I had hoped since she was a little more experienced, maybe she'd have already been with an intact man before. Apparently not.

I manage to keep from groaning.

"You're uncircumcised," she says.

"Yeah." I grip the back of my neck and sit on the edge of the bed, still turned away from her.

The bed moves, and I cringe.

This is it. She's leaving.

"This is why I don't even see your scar or your stretch marks," I say, motioning to my dick.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, there's a reason I've only had four girlfriends. The first girl I ever slept with didn't like the way it looked; she said it turned her off. She gave me a second chance, and it just didn't work for her even though I made sure she orgasmed that time. She broke up with me directly after." I sigh and my shoulders round forward. "My second girlfriend was a virgin—she said I hurt her when we slept together." A pang of guilt rams through my gut. I know women hate hearing about exes, but I think she should know. I've learned some about Jake, and she's been vulnerable and exposed today. My turn. "I was fine when she broke up with me since having sex with her, hurt me, too. She was so tight, it pulled really hard at my foreskin, it almost felt like being skinned alive. Fuck." I pull the blanket over my crotch. "She said I was way too big for her, though we stayed together a few weeks and simply stopped sleeping together. It didn't work out; she said she wasn't ready to be sexually active, but then I heard she was sleeping around like crazy after she broke up with me." My jaw clenches. "The third was a little better, and I learned more from her on what to do to get her ready so it wasn't so snug. Lots of warm up, but she never wanted to touch me down there or give me head. It was fine, but I saw the faces of disgust she'd make when I pulled my pants off." My chest is tight. I cross my arms over it to keep it from overwhelming me. "I waited almost a year after her to date again. My final girlfriend, well . . ." I shrug. "She would touch me, put her mouth on me, but she said she liked it rough, kind of like you. She wanted to feel more ridges and friction, and since my shaft's covered with a foreskin, she said it didn't get her off. The glide was too smooth. And if I went too deep, she'd cramp up, and she'd have to soak in the bath afterward. I'd massage her uterus to help her feel better."

"Fuck, I'm sorry . . ."

"I just can't seem to win in this department," I say, staring at the floor. "Everyone of them said they liked the way a cut man looked better, even if one of them admitted it felt better with me than with her previous partners. Do you see now why I don't want to be rough with you? I figured I was already taking a chance by not letting you see me before we had sex. The last thing I needed was to hurt you in addition to hiding my issues from you. If I'd gone hard, then I knew you'd never speak to me again."

"Jesus." She sets her palm on my lower back.

"I even thought about maybe moving to Europe after I graduate—it's more acceptable and the norm there."

She rubs around my spine. "I still don't see how that applies to me and my disfigurements."

I turn to her, eyes blazing. "_Disfigurements_? You think you're deformed or something?" I rip the blanket off me. "Look at me, Bella. I've been told by four different women that basically, I'm a freak and they didn't want to have sex with me. You didn't want to show me your naked body, and I sure as hell didn't want you to see mine. I was too worried you'd definitely turn me down once you saw what you'd be dealing with, and I'm sorry, but I couldn't let that happen. I wanted you too much to care. I guess that makes me a pathetic, horny asshole, but I . . . Well, yeah . . ." I trail off.

She stares at me; eyes soft. "It's awful knowing your lover doesn't approve of your naked body, isn't it?"

I stare back and go mute.

"Jake thought I was old, fat, ugly, and he even mentioned taking me to a plastic surgeon after I birthed my daughter."

"He's a stupid fucker," I say.

"I don't know about that, but I do know you deserve to start your life out with a woman that's as attractive as possible."

"And what about them? Do they deserve me with my big dick that scares them?" I blink hard.

She grins and there's a wicked glint in her eyes.

"Can I touch it?"

"You want to?" My voice breaks.

"Absolutely—if you'd asked upfront, I would've told you—this has always been a fantasy of mine, to be with an uncut man. And it was fabulous." She giggles.

"It was?"

"God, did you hear how loud I climaxed, and all the things I said to you afterward?" She fans herself with her hand for a moment. "I about climaxed several times, but I was trying to make it last."

I grin. "Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"So can I?"

"Touch it?" I bite my cheeks.

"Yeah." Her eyes flit down to my dick.

It's soft now, but, fuck, if she wants to . . .

"You can do whatever you want." A beautiful rush fills my chest, and I can barely breathe, my heart's pounding so hard.

She pushes herself up to sitting, and then reaches out and brushes her hand over the tip.

"Now it's your turn to tell _me_ if I hurt _you_," she says, "since I've never done this before."

"I rather doubt you could, but, sure, I'll tell you." I exhale. "And you know I love you touching me anywhere at all, since I'm constantly touching you. Of course I want it back."

She pets my dick, strokes it, and stares intently, like she's utterly fascinated by me.

I chuckle a few times when her tongue pokes out in concentration.

"I love the way the skin glides in my hand," she says, working me up to a semi-erect state.

"I love the way it feels _in_ your _hand_," I say, tilting my hips toward her.

She reveals the meatus over and over, and almost gasps each time she covers it up at the tip. Her fingers examining me in such a slow, thoughtful manner is so damn erotic, I leak a little. I lean toward her. Her facial expression shifts, changes from studying, to lusty. "God, you felt so fucking good. Better than anybody I've ever been with. I love that you're not circumcised. I'm going to have to send your mother a thank you note for leaving you whole. How am I going to keep myself from wanting you all the time? I'm going to be walking around constantly turned on thinking about your dick inside of me, and how this monster fit and filled me up."

"I fit with those balls inside you," I remind her.

"No wonder it was out of control mind-blowing. I'm sure you would've been tight even without them." She leans over and licks the tip. "Mmm . . . In fact I know it. So _big_."

"You're making both my heads big and swollen, woman."

She laughs. "It's not hard to do."

I shake my head. "I'm not _that_ conceited." I chuckle.

"No, quite the opposite—which I can't understand since you've got this thing between your legs and you're gorgeous."

"Whatever," I say, pulling her into my lap.

She straddles me but keeps her eyes down.

"I'm not kidding—I may need to take a picture of this so I'll have something to get me going on my lonely nights."

"If you're with me—you're not gonna have any more lonely nights," I growl and kiss her forehead. "I wanna be there for you. I wanna be _in_ you; always."

She wraps her hand around my shaft and pumps it.

My eyes roll back in my head as it tips back, and my hips thrust forward into her hands.

"That feels good," I say, sucking back the water, flooding my mouth.

She's got me really hard again. Her hand squeezes, and then she gasps as more and more blood enters my cock, thickening it. "So sexy. You're so fucking big, and I can't get over how you glide so easily in my hand," she pants. "I love the way you look; those women were idiots!" Her breath is pounding into my chest as she's jacking me off and resting her forehead on my shoulder.

"You don't know how much this means to me," I whisper. "That you like this and want to touch me."

"Well, fuck, Edward . . . After this, I doubt I can go back to a circumcised cock. I've heard other women say that before, but I thought they were exaggerating. God, you're making my pussy throb just looking at you. It's so strong and powerful. So fucking sexy."

"Then I'm gonna be naked around you more often."

She laughs. "Good plan."

She pumps harder and then suddenly goes stiff in my lap. "Oh my God, you . . . I get it now. They didn't appreciate how wonderful you are, just like Jake and me."

I nod. "Exactly. That's why I can understand the rejection."

"Not nearly as mean as you've been treated, but yes, you're right. I get it now."

She slips off my lap, envelops my cock in the next second with her mouth, and my eyes go wide.

My hand lands in her hair, and I cup the back of her head, guiding her gently.

"Fuck . . . You're so brave to do that," I say.

She moans around me and lightly pulls back on my foreskin then starts licking, gently sucking and playing all around the corona with her mouth. She tickles my frenulum with her wet, pulsing tongue and a shiver rolls down my spine.

My thighs tense.

"Fuck, that feels sooo good." My body is on fire again. "Nobody's ever . . . Oh, Jesus! Do that again."

She repeats the motion, and I automatically fist her hair, but I'm careful to avoid pulling it.

She tugs over and over again, giving me a hand job while she lands my tip in her mouth with each pump. It's almost too intense. I'm not used to this much direct stimulation. Her rhythm and pressure are perfect, and my body is aching to release again. I don't want to come in her mouth. I want to come inside her pussy again if she'll let me. Being inside of her and letting go like that was beyond description.

I lift her head and say, "Enough, I want to be inside you, fucking you until you're creaming my cock hard."

"You didn't like what I was doing?" Her brow furrows.

"Hell no, I loved it way too much. It was almost too intense. I don't want you to be left out though." I smile as I think about bringing her to orgasm again.

"I want to touch you some more; I need to," she says, sounding like a true addict. Her eyes narrow at me.

"I want to enjoy _your_ body, too," I remind her.

"I definitely want to do it again, but I'm not ready to go so soon," she says. "I'm still all tingly down there; too sensitive—that's how good you were."

"Let's wait for both of us then. What do you want to do in the mean time?"

I grab her hand and entwine our fingers. She's only getting me off if she's getting it, too. There's no way I'm gonna let her service me without a return gift.

"Lunch?" she suggests, her brows tilting up.

"I don't have a whole lot of food in my place right now. Sorry, but we could order a pizza or go out and get something if you want."

"Oooh, pizza sounds good. I love pizza, and I rarely have it."

I cock my head at her. "Why? If you love it, why do you deprive yourself?"

"Because I've been desperately trying to lose twenty pounds for the last six years since I had Corinne. I gained fifty pounds when I was pregnant with her, and I lost the first thirty easily, but the last twenty have been stubborn. I told you, Jake thinks I'm fat. I used to look very different; really thin and my breasts weren't so ugly and huge."

What the fuck did she just say? I release her hand and cup them. "What?" My nostrils flare. "Never, ever say that about your breasts. Why would you ever think that? They're perfect—so round and full. Women pay to have tits like these. Very curvy. Every man's wet dream! I fantasize about touching them all the time." I brush my thumbs across her nipples.

"Jake hated it when they got bigger. I used to be a C cup and that was perfect for him. Once I got pregnant –"

I snarl through my teeth. "Bella, your ex-husband must be batting for the other team or something—I'm telling you, he's completely screwed up. Your curves are very sensual, and they drive me to distraction. You're like a fucking Victoria's Secret underwear model. Never change your body. I love it exactly the way it is. Only change if there is something you don't like, but never change it for me. What the hell is wrong with him?"

"You really think I'm pretty?" she asks.

I grab her into a tight hold and say, "Do you feel this?" I press my erection into her thighs. "It's stayed this way for a reason. You're not touching it anymore, neither am I, but it's still swollen and throbbing for you."

"Oh . . ."

"This is how hard you make me all the time just by looking at you. Nobody else does that to me. I can't tell you enough how your body is the most insanely sexy and perfect thing I've ever seen in my entire life."

"Say that again," she says all out of breath, her shoulders surrounding her ears.

I let go of her chest and set my hands on her shoulders.

"Say what? That I can't even think about another woman?" I lean over and kiss her. "That I had to pursue you even though I knew you didn't want to be with me because of my age and lack of experience."

"I . . . Well, it was . . ."

"I know . . . I know how you felt, but I didn't care. I had to go after you. This is the most insanely sexy body," I brush the backs of my hands down her breasts, "and you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." My hands slide up her shoulders and cup her jaw. "No one else compares to you."

She gasps and pulls me into a tight embrace. "I can't believe you like looking at me."

"I'm going to brain wash you, and tell you all day long you're gorgeous and sexy and all mine. Man, I thought you knew this about yourself. I'm baffled by you. You seem so God damn sure about yourself, and you're so independent. Why is it so hard for you to believe me? Jacob's opinion is wrong. Ask any guy who looks at you if he's turned on by your curves? Your ass, your breasts, your tight body. Jesus. Didn't you think the other guys you slept with liked what they saw?"

"I didn't know if they liked it or if they thought it was a free lay so they weren't going to make a fuss? I figured they merely put up with me so they could get some action, and I didn't care because I needed to have sex so badly."

"I guarantee they loved what they saw and felt, and wanted more. You had them hooked. I love that you take such good care of yourself, and that there's nothing fake about you." I pull her hand up to my face and kiss each knuckle on her hand. Her long, slender fingers smell like sex—smell like _me_. I twitch in reaction when I inhale deeply. Smells perfect. Can I keep her from washing her hands for a little bit, so she'll keep smelling this way?

"I already told you I was supposed to have some plastic surgery done for this scar and for the stretch marks a few years ago, but I chickened out. Jake was pissed, but I told him the plastic surgery probably wouldn't have worked on the stretch marks anyway. I try to do things as natural as possible. It's part of my line of work in holistic medicine. I try to avoid all drugs and chemicals as much as I can."

My face drops. Does this mean she's not on the pill? I just assumed since she's so sexually active . . .

I swallow hard as my brain launches into overdrive. Should I ask her? Surely she would have said something? She handed me a condom yesterday that we didn't get to use. Did she use a diaphragm just now? Wouldn't I have felt it when my fingers were up inside of her? I didn't feel anything inside of her acting as a barrier. Fuck! All the girls I've ever been with were on the pill or had the shot.

_Calm down! She knows what she's doing, and she's into natural stuff. Maybe she knows her body well enough to know when she's fertile or not._

I close my eyes for a second and pray what I did wasn't a mistake.

"Hooohhhh," I blow out a little, stressed out breath. I can't ask her. I trust that she would have told me if I shouldn't have come inside of her. She's so straight forward and honest about everything else. Why wouldn't she tell me? That wouldn't make sense.

My mind keeps assaulting me trying to figure it out. _Is she on the pill? Then why the condom yesterday? For STD protection? Crap! _I'm going crazy.

"Okay, let's get some food so I have some energy to take you inside of me again," she says, smiling.

I relax immediately, my chest loosening—she's definitely on the pill or she wouldn't want to do it again without protection. That would be insane.

I get up and stroll naked to the kitchen to get my phone out of my backpack. Is she watching my naked body?

I glance over my shoulder, and she's gawking. My chest heats.

I give a throaty laugh and head out of the room. Once I have my phone, I dial for pizza delivery.

Bella agrees on a supreme pizza, and when the order's placed, I ask the pizza operator, "What's the damage?" I cringe inside, knowing I'm running incredibly short on funds.

"The total's twenty dollars and seventy one cents with tax. It'll be there in about thirty minutes. Don't forget about a tip for the driver," the operator reminds me.

"Do you take debit over the phone?" I ask since I know I don't have very much cash on me.

"Sure, give me your card number."

I get up to grab my wallet off my dresser in my bedroom. Bella follows me in and takes my hand. "Stop, I'll pay cash when it gets here."

No, you pay for everything. I'll get this."

She looks at me adoringly and says, "You really don't have to. I know you don't have a lot of money. Save it for school stuff or for yourself. I don't wanna eat into your budget."

I kiss her swiftly on the lips. "My treat today." I'll get a job soon and then my money won't be so tight.

I give the numbers over the phone and Bella lies back down on my bed. She's very comfortable, relaxed and sprawled out humming to herself as she continues to gaze at my dick which is now relaxed and calm, too.

I hang up and she says, "I have to say, I love being in your bed. I love your apartment, too."

"Why? It's so boring and plain. I haven't done much with it." I glance around the room.

"But it's honest, and it feels and smells like you. One of the many things I adore about you is how easy you are to please and get along with. You don't demand anything from me except that I be myself and surrender to the fact you wanna be with me. Do you know how rare that is? Men boss me around all the time, and the only reason I get my way is because I can choose whether or not to sleep with them."

Can I tear their dicks off now? Fucking douches. "I don't need much to be happy. I only need to touch you and see you smile and then I'm content."

"God, you're spoiling me already." She rolls out of bed and heads to my kitchen.

I, of course, follow her; amused over how at home she is here. She's comfortable going through my fridge as she looks for something to drink. She grabs a water bottle and asks, "Can I have this? Screaming out your name while I'm coming with a mind blowing orgasm makes me an incredibly thirsty girl."

"Maybe a Gatorade would hydrate you better?" I tease. "And I think you can scream louder than that. It was only warm up."

"Ew! I hate Gatorade. No thanks, I'll pass." She sticks out her tongue and ignores the rest of my comment.

I lean against the counter and watch her. "Yeah, you can have that water bottle."

She opens it, takes a swig and walks over to the couch then stretches out on it. "What time do you have to be to work tomorrow morning?" she asks.

I give her a cocky smile. "I don't have a job right now, remember? I'm in summer school, and I have to be there by seven. I have a confession to make though."

"Yes?"

"I left earlier than that today so I could watch you enter your office building at your work."

"I knew I saw you this morning! That was you, wasn't it? Did you follow me inside, too?"

"Yeah. A co-worker of yours named Rose let me in. Don't get her in trouble though. She saw how pathetic and girly I was, staring at you."

"I can't believe you came there."

"Or that I secretly act like an ovary attached to legs?"

She laughs. "There is nothing girly about you." She motions the water bottle at my cock.

"Well, thanks, but just so you know, I was there because I was trying to make sure you were okay. I felt awful about what happened between us yesterday. You looked really upset. I was worried about you."

"I cried a ton over losing you. I could barely make it through work this morning as I thought about never seeing you again. It seemed so dumb, but I felt awful, too, so I'm glad to hear I wasn't the only one."

"You cried? Shit. I'm sorry." I suck in a gust of air. "I'm sorry I did that to you. I was shocked when you told me you had a kid. I still wanted you, but I needed time to process it all."

"I know, hon, and you already apologized, so it's fine. No need to say sorry again."

"I really wanna meet your daughter, Corinne." I smile at her even though I know she may gut me by saying no.

"Really? I figured you'd only want to date me if we could do it without my daughter being involved at all. It would've been tricky for me to do that, but I'm used to keeping that stuff away from her, so I was willing to do that for you."

"Yes, really. You love her, so she's important to me, too. She's a part of you, and I want to be a part of your life. How old is she? What's she like? Is she beautiful like you?"

She steps toward me and blushes a little. "She's the cutest little girl I've ever seen, and I'm not biased or anything," she mocks herself. "She's six, and very precocious. Very smart and funny. She won't be back for another four more weeks. I miss her so much. I was actually considering flying down to see her for the Fourth of July."

What? That's the day after tomorrow! She can't go. My heart stops. "Oh, I didn't know you were thinking about leaving town." I try to keep a poker face. I don't want to guilt her into staying here. If she needs to see her daughter then she should feel free to go, but dammit, I can barely breathe when I think of her being away.

"I don't think I will now though. I can't be away from you, and since you're in school, you probably can't go with me, can you?" she asks with a glimmer of hope in her voice.

"I don't know." I know I can't afford plane tickets anywhere. Pizza was a stretch as it was.

"We'd have to leave tomorrow, and we could totally surprise her." Her face lights up.

God, her smile is so exuberant. I want her to have this, so without thinking I say, "Let's go."

"Oh my gosh, Edward, you're going to love my mom. She's amazing!"

Shit! I'm meeting her mom _and_ her daughter? My heart speeds up and my hands get cold.

I'm meeting family, and I'm what to her? Her young lover? Her boyfriend? Her friend? Her one-night-stand? What would she introduce me as to her mom and daughter?

"Um, I hate to have this talk already, but what would you tell them our relationship is?" The blood drains out of my face and my dick when she bites her lip and looks worried as hell.

"I would tell them you're my boyfriend. That's what you are, right?"

I swallow. "Yes, if you want me to be." My voice cracks. I definitely want to be.

"Of course I do. Does that bother you if I call you my boyfriend and introduce you that way?"

"No, I would love it if you did that." I grip the counter for support and then sit down at a barstool.

"Okay, then after we eat lunch, have some more mind blowing sex, let's get you packed. Do you want to stay at my place tonight so I can get packed up, too?"

My head aches. This is taking off faster than a rocket. I love it, but am I ready for this? "Will Jake bother us?" I ask, wondering how often he stops by.

And like magic, as if I've conjured up the devil by saying his name, her phone starts to vibrate in her purse.

She walks over to it and answers, "Hey, I'm busy. Can I call you back?"

I glare at her phone. I know it's him. He calls her all the time, and she only uses that tone with him.

And has she forgotten we're both naked, still dripping with each other's come?

Suddenly my fists ball up, and my chest heats.

She's in my home. _Mine_!

And she's talking to that shithead on the phone right next to me.

I get up, walk over to her, kiss her neck and stroke her breasts then fondle her ass, breathing hard in her ear.

"Would you stop that?" she whispers very quietly and smiles at me. "I'm on the phone."

Hell no. I'm not going through this again.

"Hang up," I growl.

"I can't." Her eyes plead with me to not give her hassle about this.

"Hang up, baby," I say more urgently as I kiss and nip at her neck.

She returns to her phone conversation, "Hey, I'll call you back later. I'm kind of in the middle of something important."

I can hear Jake yell at her on the phone, "Tell him to get his damn hands off of you so you can talk to me for five fucking –"

_Snap!_

I snag her phone out of her hand, close it and toss it in her purse.

She chokes on her breath.

I smile and cross my arms over my chest.

A second later, she smiles back at me and stifles her laughter. "You are seriously insane, you know that?"

"Insanely jealous for you," I reply. "I don't want you talking to him when you're with me. I don't like it."

"I have to be careful not to piss him off. I'm already going to be pushing him away by telling him no more dates on Thursdays and no more sex."

"He needs to get a girlfriend," I say as I go back to kissing her body.

"He has dozens of girlfriends. It doesn't matter. He still hounds me constantly." She offers half a shrug.

"Do you want me to talk to him?" I wrap my arms around her and rock her.

"No, I can handle him."

I rest my chin on the back of her shoulder and love having my chest pressed up against her backside. It means my cock's nestled between her firm cheeks. Mmm . . .

"He already knows we're together. Next time you talk to him, when I'm not around, tell him I don't like it. He'll respect my wishes."

She laughs and snorts, "He doesn't respect anybody's wishes. He's a selfish jerk."

"Then turn off your ringer when you're with me, and tell him you couldn't hear the phone ringing because I was making you come over and over and over again and you were yelling out my name." I tighten my grip around her waist.

"You're almost as horny as I am," she says. She reaches behind her and strokes my ass.

"How often do you wanna have sex?"

"Um, all day. I masturbate all the time. All the old lady books say I'm at my sexual peak, so I probably think about it as often as a guy does." Her hands settle on top of mine.

"How often do you masturbate?" I'm getting slightly aroused thinking about her touching herself.

"Depends. Probably two to three times a day on average."

"Holy shit! That's how often I do it. God, we need to be together all day so we can take care of each other all the time," I say.

"You're more dangerous than I thought."

The doorbell rings. We both jump! Shit, we're both naked.

She runs into my room, throws on my shirt and my boxers, grabs her purse and beats me to the door while I'm still getting dressed, minus my underwear since she took them.

"Thanks! Keep the change," I hear her say as she shuts the door with the pizza in hand.

Damn it! She paid for the tip. Will she ever let me pay for anything?

"I would have gotten the tip." I try hard not to sound annoyed.

"I know you would have, but let me tell you something—I hate that I have to take Jake's money. The only thing that makes me okay with it is spending it on Corinne and now you. I try not to use any of his money on me at all. It feels dirty. I hate that he coerced me into keep that matching Rolls. I'd much rather drive my Volvo. It's what I take Corinne to school in, but once she left out of town, he insisted I drive the Rolls instead. He's so damn controlling and bossy, it makes me insane!"

"Sell it. If it's your car, get rid of it," I say, tucking her hair behind both ears.

"If I did that, would you let me get you a car with the money?"

Hell fucking no! No way! I wouldn't take a car that was bought with his money.

My spine stiffens, and I don't say a word; I merely look at her like she's killing me with this thought of hers.

"I really wanna get you some transportation. If I bought it with my own money? What if I bought you a motorcycle so you could come and see me in the middle of the night when my bed is cold and lonely?" She flutters her eyelashes at me.

God, she's so convincing. I would love to be able to get to her house in minutes if she called, begging me to come and make love to her.

I grind my teeth for a second. "If it's that important to you, then I'll take out another student loan and get a car."

I'll get something we can fit Corinne in too, just in case.

"You would?" she asks, her voice all breathy and delighted. "Well, until you do that, I want you to borrow the Volvo. I need you to be able to get around more easily."

"I would do anything for you. Now let's eat . . ." _I'm dying to fuck you again . . ._

I get down two plates, two cups, some napkins and open the box of pizza.

"How did I get so lucky to have you?" she asks in a dreamy voice as she takes a big bite.

"You didn't—I'm the lucky one. Lucky that you let me love you even though I have nothing to offer you."

"Nothing but everything I always wanted." Her voice shakes and she gets a little choked up.

I wrap an arm around her shoulders.

Forget lunch. I need her now! I pick her up over my shoulder and march her right back to my bed so I can show her how lucky I am to have her . . . Repeatedly.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: The Freedom to Act Out**

"I was eating," she says pretending to be perturbed I've dragged her back to our new sex cave.

"Eat this instead, it's very filling," I say, placing her hand on my erection.

Her phone starts buzzing in her purse again. I groan and tip my head back.

Her hand stills on my dick.

"Don't answer it," I warn.

"What am I supposed to do? He's going to get really angry, and he'll keep calling. You won't have to deal with it, but I will—later tonight. Do you want him to come over to my house while we're both there?"

"No, I don't. I'll be with you though so he won't want to come in."

Suddenly I can imagine him making her go outside to talk to him again. I won't allow that to happen. It was excruciating to let her go with him and talk to him alone while I was waiting for her last time. Never, ever again!

She's mine!

I grab her damn phone and answer it, "Hi Jake, this is Edward."

"Edward, I need to talk to Bella. It's important."

"She can't come to the phone right now. She's with me, and when we're together, I don't like her talking to any other men, especially ex-husbands. I'm sure you understand. Why don't you tell me your message, and I'll relay it to her."

"I don't give a damn how you feel. Let me talk to that bitch or –"

_Click!_

I hang up. He's not calling Bella names; I won't allow it. Nobody talks about her that way, especially not that miserable excuse for a man.

Bella's face scrunches, and her eyes are filled with worry and fear.

"He can't hurt us," I say.

She's worried over nothing. There's no way a judge would ever give that asshole their daughter over Bella. Sure, he makes good money, but courts usually side with the mom unless they deem her unfit and there's no chance in hell any judge could ever say that about her.

"He'll call back, and I'll answer it again. He'll get the message—I'm taking care of you now. And when he calls back after that, I'll answer again, as many times as it takes until he gets the hint he can't be bugging you all damn day long, especially when you belong to me."

I put her phone in my pocket, take her hand and bring her back out to the kitchen so we can go ahead and eat our lunch, since he effectively killed the mood. Besides, she's hungry, and I can wait, unlike that asshole with the patience of a spoiled toddler.

"Thank you," she says, sounding worn out and run down by that man.

"You're welcome. I'll run interference every time. That man is out of control, and somebody needs to get him to stop. I don't mind being that person at all. You can't do that since you have to look out for Corinne, but I'd be happy to teach him some manners."

"You're too sweet, and way too good to me," she says as she saunters back over to the bar stool, plops herself down and goes back to munching on her pizza. There's a thoughtful look on her face and a serene smile in place.

Good. I put it there, and I'm so fucking ecstatic about it, I can't even eat. All I can do is stare at her in awe.

"You're so beautiful, Bella. And you deserve to be happy," I say.

She sighs and shifts in her chair. A slight cringe washes over her then disappears. She exhales and her chest rounds nicely.

"How's your slice?" I ask to check and see if she's enjoying it. I love that she's eating something she wouldn't normally.

"I forgot how much I love pizza." She's practically choking on it as she's inhaling it.

"Hey, where's my damn soda?" I ask as I search around for it.

"Oops, he must have forgotten to give it to me."

Damn it! I paid for that damn drink for nothing. There goes a few more bucks down the toilet.

_Bzzzzz, Bzzzzz, Bzzzzzz._

I answer her phone again, and say with a big smile, "Must be urgent. Why don't you tell me what the emergency is, Jake, and I'll make sure she gets the message."

God, I am so enjoying shutting this prick down. It's getting me high. My chest tingles as I look at her, and she watches me with a hint of a smirk.

Yeah, he deserves this shit, and she deserves for someone to stand up to him for her.

I reach over and brush the back of my right hand down her arm.

She smiles at me shyly as she grabs a second slice of pizza and starts eating it with just as much gusto. I have to touch her. She's so damn cute! I drift my hand up her arm and then walk my fingers into her hair.

Goose flesh breaks out across her arm.

I snuggle in behind her, and with my free hand, I slide it up under her shirt and start fondling her silky, smooth breasts. She's squirming about a little but still smiling all the same.

"Let me fucking talk to her!" Jake snaps.

"I'm sorry, but she's indisposed at the moment and can't come to the phone."

"You horny, punk-ass teenager. She's not your toy. She's the mother of my child. Now, if you don't let me talk to her, I'm gonna rain down a shit-storm of epic proportions on your ass!"

"Can't wait. Oh, and just so you know . . . your threats don't work on me. I don't have anything you can take away from me, so go ahead, throw your tantrums and rage like an idiot. It's not gonna do you any good." I grin.

She grabs the top of my hand and tries to get me to grope her harder. A small moan emanates out of her.

"I can take her away from you," he says, sounding smug.

"You can try, but she's with me, and I love her; we're together now. I treat her right; give her the respect and love she deserves. You had your chance."

_Click._

I'm done talking to this asshole.

I shove her phone back in my pocket, lean over and start kissing her neck. "He still wants you," I say, kissing along her hairline.

"No he doesn't. He only wants control."

"No, he wants you. He thinks he still loves you. He obviously didn't appreciate what he had until somebody else started adoring and loving on you." I scrape the edge of my teeth along the curve of her neck. Her shoulder bunches up.

She pulls her shirt off and holds her hair up for me with her arm so I can give better lip service to the back of her neck and body.

"He might come after you legally," she warns me.

"What's he going to take away? My couch my mom gave me? I have nothing of value except you, and I know you're not going back to him so I have the upper hand." I smile.

"You've got _that_ right. I'll never go back to him. He has no idea how to be a good husband." She stiffens the moment she mentions the word husband.

I know she still somehow loves him, but I hope over time as I continue to show her a deep, satisfying love that's all encompassing and warms her soul like a protective blanket, she'll forget she was ever with him.

All she'll know is these arms I possess, and this heart that's now filled completely with her.

"He doesn't know how to love you, but I do. I'll love you every day of your goddamn life." I grab her around the waist and lift her up off the chair. She stares in my eyes with this soft glow about her. I stand her in front of the counter. "Grab on. I'm gonna show you right now how different things are with me."

A lazy contented smile drifts over her. She places her right hand on my cheek and angles her head at me. "I love you, too; God help me."

"I think it's too late for that since I've got you here, and I can't wait for diety to arrive and help out. Besides, I don't really need any help for this. And you can handle it."

"Is that so?" She drops her hand and squeezes my shoulder.

"Yeah, now bend over so I can love you from behind," I say. "Nothing says I love you more than being fucked from behind."

She laughs and then complies. "This should be interesting."

"Should be hot," I correct her. "Best ass in the world, right here in front of me."

I pull my boxers off her and softly stroke her hamstrings as I kiss her back with soft, parted lips. She moves with me, and she's so relaxed, she leans her arms onto the counter and lays her head on top of them like she's going to go to sleep.

Long, sweeping feather light strokes up and down her whole backside has her breaking out in goose flesh, and has me high and stiff as hell. I want every inch of her to be stimulated, quickened by my touch. She opens her legs wider and tucks her right leg up onto the stool she was sitting on while she was eating. I take that as a signal she wants me my mouth to take up residence between her thighs. Yes, that's where I belong.

I drift in that direction and make sure to drag out the kisses along my journey.

_Bzzzzz, Bzzzzz, Bzzzzz._

I take her phone out of my pocket and hold it with my hand on my dick. Might as well let it get me off. Oooh, those vibrations are stronger than I thought they would be. Feels so good I get a bad, naughty idea. I'm not talking to that dick right now. I'm busy with my woman. But I can find a way to take advantage of his constant buzzing about.

"Is my phone ringing again?" she asks trying to crane her head around to see what I'm doing.

"No, it's my vibrator, and it's sucking on my cock at the moment," I reply.

Her eyes crinkle in confusion.

She turns around and watches me plaster her phone against my dick over my pants.

"God, that's so naughty." Her eyes light up. "You found a way to make him suck your cock."

"I'll have to thank him for calling so much and making a nice sex toy for us. Wanna feel it?" I ask as I push the phone up against her moist thigh.

"Whoa, that does feel good. You're so kinky," she says groping my biceps. "Who knew the good little college boy had a wicked side to him. Put it on my clit."

That's exactly where my thinking was going . . .

"As long as you're thinking of my dick up inside of you and not his," I tease.

"Please, . . . now that I've had you, I won't ever be able to fantasize about his miniscule cock or anybody else's. Nobody else has felt that good inside of me _ever_. The way your silky skin moved in and out of me—fuck . . . Makes me wet just thinking about it, and the way you slowly stretched me open, and didn't slam in and out of me. It was like you were kissing my cunt and then licking my insides . . . _Heaven_."

I pant as I listen to her describe the way I felt when I was making love to her.

A shiver runs down my spine. I shove that phone up against her clit as fast as I can. I want her thinking about me up inside of her immediately!

The phone quiets. I grab it away from her body, dial him back.

I smirk as it rings.

He answers right away. "Stop letting that dick answer your phone!" he yells, thinking he's speaking to her.

"I'll give her the message. Can you call back? I swear I'll let her answer the phone." I put a finger over her mouth so she won't say anything.

"I'm not playing games with you, you adolescent, horny –"

_Click! _

"He's gonna call back," I tell her.

Her eyes grow large and go dark with concern.

"It's fine. Trust me."

She nods, or tries to since my finger's still stuck to her mouth.

I let it fall away.

"Why is he calling back?"

"You'll see."

He's pissed—won't be able to resist calling back. Ready, set . . .

"Get ready baby, I'm gonna get you off with your phone." I prepare her by kneeling under her and slowly inserting two fingers inside that sweet pussy. She turns back around and pushes her leg back up onto the stool. I start sweeping her G-spot and sucking and kissing on her ass cheek.

If nothing else, that prick is reliable and extremely predictable.

_Bzzzz, Bzzzz, Bzzzz._

"Answer the call," I croon as I push her phone up against her clit.

"Oh God, I love this game. I hope he calls me all the fucking time!" she moans. Her ass flexes.

"Show me how much you love it, come for me." An urgency fills me up. I want her to show me she can let go of her ex and come all over me as she turns her back on him and her phone. This is a symbol of her devotion to me and her abandoning her past. "Gush, and make me wet in the process. I wanna be soaked by you."

"Jesus, this is sick," she says, her voice raspy.

"He can't love you like I can," I whisper. My tongue finds its way to her anal opening. "There's nothing sick about that."

"Shit! Oh God, that feels fucking goooood." She thrusts her pelvis in time with my finger sweeps.

"Show me how good it feels, let go. You can do it—come. This is _my_ love calling out to you, not his!" My fingers push a little deeper, a little harder, but I keep control and it's gentle enough so it's still loving.

The phone stills, and I drop it to the ground, like she should do with him. _Drop_ him!

I circle her clit with my thumb, feeling more relaxed and less urgent now. She can take her time to let go and surrender to me. With each brush of my fingers, each moan she releases, each thrust of her hips, and each quiver of her body, I ache for her.

"How do you do this to me?" she pants.

"You belong with me. We were made for each other. We have to be together." I kiss her outer thigh with reverence, and inhale deeply. How does she smell this good?

"Yessss, we belong together, God, I feel it, too." She squeezes my fingers deliciously with her pussy.

I throb. I sweat and curse. I want more . . .

"Good. I'm glad. Now, when your ex calls, I'll deal with him. You don't have to worry about him anymore."

"No, I don't want you to have to handle that asshole," she replies, her voice filled with pain.

"Bella, I want to. I won't ever leave you to deal with his insane controlling ways. Just trust me to take care of you and this situation." I nip at her leg and it trembles.

She waves her head back and forth as she's trying to catch her breath. "Mmmmhhhh. You don't know what you're saying. He's impossible to deal wiiii—oh fuck!" I tighten the circles on her G-spot inside her, and her knees almost buckle out from under her.

She thrusts more savagely.

The phone vibrates around on the ground once more. He's gonna kiss her ass this time.

I pick it up and swing myself around so I'm sucking on her clit while he's vibrating on her puckered asshole. My tongue pulses, makes her lips swell for me. I place her phone on its side and gently shove it up against her anus.

She gasps at the sensation. My fingers inside her push deeply against her cushion filled with juices for me. I want them released, coating my tongue, wetting my appetite further.

"Ahhhhh! Fuck! So dirty!" she screams out as she lets go, coming hard. She rolls her hips, her back arching, and she squeezes her pussy tight. Fluids come streaming down her legs, drip down my hand and over my forearm. I drop her phone. It continues to buzz and dance around on the carpet while I lick that shit up off her legs.

"More, Jesus—I love seeing how wet you are," I say. She keeps gushing and dripping, and I keep licking and slurping up her standing, dripping leg. Fuck! She tastes sooooo good. I drag my mouth up to her pussy and pull my fingers out of her slowly since I know she's sensitive there now. I flatten my tongue and suck greedily, cupping her entire vulva with my open mouth. She shivers with each touch and kiss I give her. So sensitive from her orgasm still riding inside of her.

She puts her leg down that was resting on the stool, and I kneel in front of her, coaxing her down to lying on the floor.

I want to taste more of her. Once she's in place, sprawled out on the ground, I use my palms to spread her legs and my mouth explores, lapping up the rest of her come. I keep it gentle and light so she can come down off her peak.

"You taste so fucking delicious!" I tell her. "I hope he calls back so I can get you to do that again."

"God, You. Are. So. Kinky! I love it," she says all breathless as she spreads out and melts into the floor.

"I can't help it. I want all of you." I continue consuming all of her moist flesh. "I don't think I've ever cared very much about giving oral before now, but fuck if I'm not addicted to you, to your flavor."

"You can have all of me. I'm yours." She runs her fingers through my hair.

I pull my pants off, grab her hands and place them on my cock. "Touch me, please."

"I thought you'd never ask," she teases. She slowly sits up as I get into a kneeling position.

She tugs gently and glides her hand up and down the length of my shaft. Her eyes are filled with wonder as she fondles me. "Smooth as silk, glides like liquid heat in my palm. Those women you dated were idiots. I can't wait to have this inside me again." She moistens her bottom lip, and I leak.

I leak for her.

And her liquid heat that coats me when I'm inside her.

"God, do you know how much I love the way you slide up and down my cock like that? And the way you look at it, like you're gonna devour it. Fuck, I can barely breathe." I twitch in her hand.

She keeps going, running her thumbs around the ridge of the corona, slipping her index finger across the salty, moist slit.

I swell and thicken, and her pupils dilate.

"You're harder. I'm watching you get bigger in my hands. Holy shit, Edward, how can you possibly get bigger?" She breathes so hard, it sounds hoarse.

"I love how you touch me," I say, watching her hands move. "You're sure you've never been with an intact man before?"

"I'm sure. I have no idea what I'm doing, but I love touching it—touching your hard dick." Her breath hitches when more fluid beads at the tip. She pulls my foreskin back and lightly traces the pad of her index finger around my exposed tip. "So soft. So smooth. There's not a spot on my body this velvety."

I blink. "Yeah, there is. I've felt it with my fingers and my tongue just a little bit ago. You're softer—believe me."

"My clit doesn't count."

"It sure as hell does." I sit up straight, but slowly enough she can keep experimenting with my head.

She runs her fingernail from her index finger across the head.

My body recoils instinctively.

"Lighter please. Too much." She's used to a calloused, hardened dick. I can't take that much direct heat on my tip.

"It's so tempting to bite it, to suck it hard, and grip it with my nails, but I won't do that because I definitely wanna touch your cock again, and I doubt you'd let me if I did any of that." She lightens her touch as she examines and adores further. "It's really sensitive, isn't it?"

She flicks her finger lightly over the exposed top.

I jump and yelp.

She smiles and blows across it, watching my reaction with rapt attention.

"Sorry . . . I couldn't help myself."

"That's my line when I'm spreading your legs, about to fuck you," I say, chuckling. "But to answer your question—yes, it's ultra-sensitive. It's usually protected and covered. Like your clit. If you pull back the hood you can't just go after it full force. It's too powerful. You have to build it up, persuade it to come out and play, and then slowly the hood retracts on its own, revealing more and more until it almost takes up the entire space. The nerve endings slowly absorb all of the sensations."

"Is that why you like to take it slow?"

"Yes and no." I exhale, my head filled with all sorts of possibilities of how I can treat this question-and-answer-session. I can turn it into a clinic and be all logical about it, or I can make love to her again, and let her find out firsthand. Her eyes are filled with genuine concern and curiosity, so I choose to answer. "I can pound hard if I want, but I had that girlfriend I told you about that would cramp up miserably afterward if I made her come too fast, and I didn't like seeing her in pain. I don't want to do that to you. If I go slow, it takes longer to build up, and you have a stronger orgasm that goes on longer."

"I've rarely had that happen to me," she replies. "I don't cramp up."

I reach out and stroke her wrist as she continues to fondle me. "Yeah, but you've said you were never with an uncircumcised man. Believe me, you wouldn't like it. It would always hit my girlfriend, Tanya, twenty minutes later, so I had to learn control. She wanted it hard and fast, so I would do it for her, but I was bigger than what she was used to, and it made her uterus reverberate like aftershocks from an earthquake. It was hard to watch her doubled over with cramps in bed. I hated I was responsible for that. I wanted her to be relaxed and happy after sex, not hurting and popping Advils. It was worth it to me to figure out how to slow the fuck down."

"I don't care if that happens. I'm used to being ridden hard. Until you, I've never known a man who even wants it any other way."

I exhale and my shoulders tighten. "Even if _you_ don't care, _I_ do. I'd rather make it last longer and watch you have a more powerful orgasm that overwhelms you so much, it takes you twenty minutes after to remember your goddamn name, rather than twenty minutes later, cramping up and wishing you didn't own a pussy. I want to make love to you, not masturbate inside of you. If I want to get off quick then I can whack off on my own. When I'm with you it's because I want to enjoy pleasuring you and showing you my affection and devotion to you."

She sighs and her eyes soften. "So damn romantic. It's gonna take some getting used to on my part—having a man talk to and touch me like this."

"What did the men you dated usually say to you?" I quirk a brow at her.

"Pass me that condom." She shrugs like it's no big deal. "And make it quick."

Shit! All of that fear and worry comes flooding back into me. She uses condoms. We didn't use one. Why? I don't want to get her pregnant.

I swallow and fist my hands for a moment.

Okay, it's fine. She's using some other form of birth control. I hate condoms anyway. They're incredibly tight and suffocating. She knows what she's doing, dammit. She doesn't want to get pregnant either. She's on something, I know it. I'm glad that she's on top of birth control so I don't have to be.

Tendons stick out on my neck with each tight swallow.

I slow my breathing down; push those horrid thoughts aside like they're a nightmare I can ignore. I inhale with ease and say, "How did you put up with that?"

"I love having sex. I need it, so I didn't care what they said to me as long as they gave me an orgasm and they were willing to screw me."

"Too easy to please," I mock her. She said that about me.

"Yes, I am easy to please in the bedroom. As long as you push the right buttons."

"Did I get them all? I'm willing to do it again to make sure it's done right."

"Yeah, you pushed them all and in a way they haven't been pushed before." Her head lulls from side to side and her right hand flops over her heart. "When I can breathe normal again, I'll let you know." She grins.

My cock is rock solid and screaming at me for relief. "How did I do that?"

She starts pulling my erection toward her. "Get back inside of me, and I'll tell you."

She settles back onto the ground, and I slide on top of her, slowly pushing my way back in.

Lush, sweet, heat. Relief. She grips me with her pussy walls, and I grunt when I'm all the way in.

"Sssfffff, hoooohhhhh, feels good." My body is all fire and burning heat. "Fuck, I can't take how tightly you grip me. I may not last long." I tuck my head into her neck, cursing myself for having no control with her, after I basically just bragged about how I learned to slow down so I wouldn't hurt my girlfriend. She probably thinks I'm a lying fucker.

"Ohhh, dear God, I love how big you are. Are you swelling inside me the way you did in my hand? Are you growing thicker? Harder? Ready to leak already? Fuuuuck . . ."

"Shhh . . . Don't say that, I'll blow."

"I want you dying to come—I want you to think about how much I love the way you slip inside me and move like water, caressing my insides, kissing my G-spot. Can you feel how wet you make me? I've never been this wet before."

I lick her pulse point on her neck and growl. "Goddammit, you're trying to make me work to keep going, aren't you?"

"I'm not doing anything, but telling you how it feels because it's so fucking amazing," she says, her voice low and throaty. She tightens her PC muscles again, and I bite back a broken, whimpering moan.

She pulls her legs back as far as they'll go. Damn! She's so flexible from all that yoga. "Go deeper. Fill me completely," she whispers, her lips at my forehead.

"Tell me about those buttons first," I breathe out, hoping it'll distract me so I don't come too soon.

I slowly pump in and out, hoping she'll feel everything.

"Ohhhh gawwwd, deeper, please."

I grit, "How tight are you gonna get? I'm gonna . . ."

I pull out and rest my throbbing cock on her thigh. She's determined to make me come, break my will before she climaxes, isn't she? Is she testing my willpower? No way will I go first—I won't let that happen. My hands dig into whatever the fuck I'm holding onto, and I clench my teeth as my breaths pound out of me.

She strokes my hair. "If you come, we'll just have to try again later . . ." She lifts her body, brushes her lips across my Adam's apple and purrs into my overheated skin.

"Just give me a second," I say, panting.

When I've calmed down, I press back inside her, and I swear to fucking God, she's even tighter than before.

How is this possible?

"You're so big and thick, your ridge is constantly brushing up against my G-spot, and you stay so tight and close on my body, your pubic padding pushes at my clit. I love how it leaves your hands free to fondle my breasts. You're better than any sex toy. You hit all of the spots at once. It's very . . . hoh oohhhhhh, intense, sssssffffffuuuuuu," she drags in a long sexy sigh as I suck on her left nipple, but I have to stop and pull away; she's driving me crazy.

"No more—stop the play-by-plays, I can't take it," I warn her, ready to shoot off again.

"That's how you push my buttons—that's what you do. You asked, but even if you . . . Oh, shhhiiiiiit! Again, do that again!" Her voice goes up in pitch.

I tipped her hips up toward the ceiling, and it seems I've hit something really good with my dick.

A few more pulsing waves, along with a few more moans from her, and I know I've gotta get her there, now!

She grabs me around the neck with her hands and pulls me into her tight as she explores my mouth sensuously with her tongue.

Her hands drag down my back and grip my ass hard.

I can barely think about how to get her off, so like a fuckoff, I reach between us and thrum my fingertip across her clit.

It's erect, so swollen and slick, it's hard to keep contact.

I lick her top lip, plunge my tongue inside her luscious mouth and in response, she tips her head back then pushes her nipples up into my chest.

"My turn to tell you what you feel like to me," I say, hoping it'll make her as insane for me as I was for her when she was the one doing the sharing. "Imagine my soft, velvety tip caressing your favorite sweet spot. It's kissing it, tonguing it softly right now. How does that feel?" She mewls and runs her hands across my chest. "It's like a wave of heat, sucking my dick in, hugging it tight like you've got both fists wrapped around me, digging at my control, breaking into my heart and mind. And when I think I'm gonna lose it and explode, you say something so insanely hot, I can't even think, so I have to pull out. It makes me want to be everything for you. It makes me rip at my heart so I can make it bigger for you, so I can be the man you need me to be. And when you make those throaty moans, I come undone. You are the reason I feel like this, and why I swell and get thicker and longer in your hands and inside of you—because it matches what you do to my heart."

Her breath hitches more than once, and her chest caves in as it spasms.

"My God, Edward," she groans. "I can't . . . You're so beautiful." Tears leak out of the corners of her eyes, and I kiss them away with my lips.

"I've got you—I'll always hold you this way, and tell you what you mean to me." I push a little harder, thrust a little faster, and circle her clit with more force.

"God, sooo good, I want more." She wraps her arms around me and kisses my jaw then drags her tongue down my neck. "I can't get enough."

"If you're ready, relax your pelvis—I wanna go deeper. For you," I coax, wrapping my arms under her knees.

She goes lax in my grip, her hips opening and then . . .

That pussy milks me when I give her as much of my cock as I can, and I almost lose it. Right as I hit the end of her, push as far as I can go, she spasms around me.

"Ohhhh God, I'm coming," she moans and pushes her ejaculate out in delicate pulses. "Mmmmhhhh, hhhhuuuuuhhh, oh Christ!"

Her come smells so good to me. It's like a powerful perfume I love to inhale. I shove my finger in my mouth I was circling her clit with, and that's it.

My thighs tighten and a pulse rises, shifts and grips my balls then rips right out of my cock as I coat her insides with my come.

"I love you," I groan, my body following hers.

Blood rushes in my ears, my breath washes over her, and all I can taste is her.

"Edwaarrrrddd—mine! You're mine!" She grips my shoulders.

I exhale and lower myself down onto her.

She unwinds beneath me, and I flip us over so she can lay on me. I stroke my hands down her back as she sags into me. I'm so happy I was able to give her love the way she deserves—full of emotion and with a true connection.

I almost wonder if she ever had anything like this with her ex. The way he acts, I doubt it.

"I will never cheat or leave you," I whisper. "You have to know that. I'm not like that."

"I know," she says as she pulls away and turns to look at me. "You're too loving to ever do that to me."

"We're the same that way." I smile.

_Bzzz, Bzzz, Bzzz._

I can't resist, so I answer the call. "Jake, thanks so much for giving us a _buzz_. We thoroughly enjoyed it!"

"What?" he roars. "I'm not playing around! Put her on the phone now, or I'll hunt you both down!"

"Good luck with that since you have no idea where I live." Bella's safe here with me. I wish she lived with me so he can't ever get at her again. The ass doesn't deserve to be able to talk to her, let alone see her. "I'm sorry but she's still indisposed. I told you, give me your message, and I'll _give_ it to her." I already gave it to her two times, and the second time my message to him was "kiss our ass and then fuck off!"

"Tell her that _our daughter_ is not happy in Florida, and I'm going to go get her if she doesn't damn well do something about it!"

"That's not necessary. Bella's flying up tomorrow to visit with her for the holiday weekend." I decide to leave out the part that I'll be tagging along. I've already pushed this guy pretty hard today, and I don't want him to take it out on Bella later. She doesn't deserve that.

"Fine, tell her I'm not happy that you keep answering her fucking phone as well!"

"She knows. And when are you ever happy with anything?" I ask as I end the conversation the way I always do, with a _click_ for that douche.

She laughs at me, smiles big with her head shaking at me like I obviously don't know any better and this will eventually come back to haunt me. "Why are you doing that to him?"

"Because he's a dick, and not the good kind, and he treats you like shit. He needs a swift kick in his balls, and I'm only too happy to lend my foot in his direction."

"He's not a bad person. He's just immature and selfish." She sets her palm on my arm and a second later, she massages it.

"That's an understatement. I've never met a bigger asshole. How do you put up with him? You have the patience of a saint." I watch her hands move. Tingles creep up my arm and warm my chest. Those hands . . .

"I was married to the guy for twelve years. I got pretty used to his ego."

"_Ego_? That's what you call it? Good Lord; I call it cowardice. He's a big pussy trying to cover it up with all of his money and bravado. Every guy who meets him knows it means he's incredibly insecure and unsure of himself. He's basically an overgrown bully."

"He wasn't always this way. It got worse after his dad passed away. He was pretty close to him and took care of him for years."

Her hands move to my wrist.

"Well, then if he's good at it why didn't he take care of you?" I don't get this man at all.

"He didn't know how to be a husband. His mom died when he was a baby, and his dad's handicapped, in a wheel chair. He never saw how a married couple should act or behave. He knows how to be a good dad though since he took care of his father. He's wonderful with Cori."

"Cori? Is that what you call her?"

Her massage moves to my palm and my fingers twitch, it feels so incredible. I'm almost lightheaded.

"Yeah, that's my nickname for her. I don't know if she'll let you call her that so you'll have to ask her before you use it." Her voice is soothing like her fingers, kneading my hand.

"How old did you say she is?"

"She's six, and I talk to her like she's an adult trapped in a child's body. If you talk to her straight and don't baby her, she'll respond positively to you. She's very smart and mature for her age. She understands more than people think she does."

My chest warms even more. I really love hearing her talk about her daughter with such adoration. It's easy to see she's a wonderful, attentive, caring mother. "She sounds a lot like you."

I pull her down to snuggling in my chest. Need her closer, even if I loved every minute of her massaging.

"I can't wait for you to meet her. I can't believe you want to." She sounds like she's still trying to wrap her brain around the idea of a guy actually wanting to be a part of her domestic life.

"She sounds great to me. I'm excited to see how you are with her. I'm sure you're a terrific mom and fun to watch when you interact with her."

"I try. I love being a mom. It's the best part of my life." She beams.

"I can tell." I place a peck on her nose, give her a side squeeze and rest my lips at the top of her head. A few deep inhales, and my lungs are saturated with her scent. I'm so lax, I may be boneless at this point. But to make sure I won't need them anytime soon, I ask, "Did I push all of your buttons? I want the truth."

"All of them. You're smooth, I'll give you that." She pats the center of my chest.

"Thank you," I sigh.

"Lie with me for a while," she says.

"I have a better plan—lie with me all day. We'll take a nap, and then we'll pack," I say.

"Okay."

_Bzzz, Bzzz, Bzzz._

I grab her phone that's lying next to me, turn it off and shut him down permanently for the rest of the day and night. He can't get in our way anymore . . .


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Consequences of Pushing Buttons**

I pass her the phone. We haven't turned it back on yet. I hope she leaves it off until tomorrow.

"My phone reeks. _We_ are switching phones for the rest of the day until you figure out how to clean it up and make it stop smelling like my ass."

I grin. "I like it. It smells like your love juices and there's nothing that smells better," I say as I take a big whiff. I'd lick it if she wasn't staring at me in disgust. "You won't be getting this phone back anytime soon."

"I guess you've been answering it all day anyway. If you see a number come through from Florida then I expect you to give me my phone for that call."

"Of course; I would never come between you and your daughter." I know that Cori comes first, and I respect their relationship.

"All right, let's get you packed and get over to my house. I'll make us some dinner and then you can make love to me in my bed until we pass out from lack of fluids and overtaxed sex muscles. I plan to pull a groin muscle and then make you massage it back to health."

"I like this plan." I slide my way in between her thighs since the day isn't over yet. We have time . . .

"Incorrigible college guy. How do I attract them?" she teases.

"With big tits and an even bigger heart," I say.

She pinches my thigh. "Don't tell anyone about the second problem. I try to keep that hidden under big sweaters, behind my big tits."

I pretend to frown. "It's not working. I can see it a mile away—it's gigantic." I lean over and place a delicate kiss over her heart.

"Stop trying to make me swoon—I like that mushy stuff too much, and have things to do. Packing. My bed. Sex. Food. Shower. Sex. My Bed. Packing. Not in that order, but it's a long list."

"Sucking on your ben wah balls you have yet to remove. I bet they're soaked with both our come," I say, my voice ragged just thinking about them.

"I'm sure they'll slide right out then, right?"

"Right into my mouth you mean. I'm sucking those babies clean." I smack my lips.

"Right after I smack some good back into you. What kind of horrible influence am I on you? I bet you never talked like this before you met me." She sets her hands on my bedspread and then runs her palms along the fabric.

Why is that turning me on that she's almost memorizing the feel of my comforter? Fuck if I know why, but I can't stop staring.

My mouth goes dry as she keeps doing it with a hungry look in her eyes.

"I'm a gentleman—I don't talk about past dirty-talking exploits." I put my nose in the air but keep an eye on those wandering hands on my bed.

"A gentleman who'd never heard of ben wah balls before me, so I've proven my point about how I've corrupted you. If you wanna suck on my balls, go ahead, but it's not gonna taste good." She kneads her hands into the fabric now. What the fuck is she doing?

And dammit, I'm stiff as hell.

I finally have to turn away before I fuck her again; I get up and put my jeans back on. Before looking at her again and wishing I was back inside her, I go to the kitchen and put the left over pizza into a large zip lock baggie and toss it into my almost empty fridge.

While I'm throwing out the box, I ask, "Hey, beautiful, did you want to take the rest of the pizza so you can enjoy it at your house?"

Her face lights up. "Please, if you don't mind."

"It's yours."

We head back to my room and she keeps me hard by continually staring at me like she's dying for more—more of _me_.

A moment later, she's on my bed, propped up on her side with her elbow digging into my pillow and her head set on her hand.

"Let's stay two days," she says, sounding out of breath. Her eyes gleam with excitement. "We can take Cori to the beach and maybe surf with her. She'd love that. We can fly back late Monday night. We'd miss our first partner yoga class on Monday, but that shouldn't be a problem."

"Can you get off work for two days?" I prowl toward her, unable to resist being close.

My room smells like her, and I love it.

I hope her scent lingers and there are still traces of her when we return. The thought makes me smile.

Or better yet, maybe when we get back, she'll spend the night.

Oh shit—her daughter. She won't be able to do that.

My stomach drops and my fingers curl into my palms.

This is gonna be complicated with a kid.

"Yeah, I make my own appointments and hours. I can call my clients tomorrow before we leave and reschedule. It's not a big deal." She sprawls out on my bed and her gaze drifts over me.

She's staring again. At me. And my chest heats over the appraising look she gives me.

"If you pick your own hours then why do you choose to go in so early?"

Could she sleep-in with me on some mornings if we did figure out a way to do that and work around her daughter?

"I go in as early as I can so I can pick up Corinne from school in the afternoons when school's in session," she says.

"Who gets her ready for school in the morning?" I relax my hands and take a deep breath.

"Jake does. He comes over, gets her ready, takes her to school and then heads to work." Her voice shifts and it's a little tight.

Is she worried I'll judge her again and bolt over her child?

I smile with what I hope is warm kindness radiating off me. She can relax. I want her enough to continue this and figure out what it means to date a woman who's a mother.

"Cori's happy seeing him so often." She sighs.

"So, he's in your house every day—all the time," I say, biting back a groan of frustration. Suddenly, worrying about her kid seems simple. He's the real issue. How the hell am I going to deal with his constant presence? At least in the mornings Bella's not there so he's not messing with her. But still . . . I don't like how often he's around her and in her life.

I shift away from her before I say something I'll regret.

"Hey, we've been doing this for a long time. It works for us," she says.

"It's fine," I say, shrugging it off.

"Really?" Her brows pop up and she purses her lips.

"Well, no, it's not fine, but it's not like I have a say. Maybe in time, we can figure out another way that involves him a little less, and gives us more privacy. He likes to interfere, and I'm not cool with that."

My chest tightens. I sound like a goddamn prick—a controlling asshole.

I exhale; my chest aching. "Maybe we should worry about packing. We can talk about this more later."

"If something bothers you . . ." She rolls onto her side and her eyes soften. "I want to know, Edward. I can't always accommodate all your wishes, but if I don't even know your preference, how am I supposed to look out for you? For us?"

"Sorry, I'm just . . ." I roll my head. "I hate the way he tries to get his claws in you. It needs to stop."

She moves to the edge of the bed, sits up and her head sags while she focuses on the floor. "You're right—and I want what you do, but it's rough—dealing with him. But maybe over time, like you've said . . ."

"Yeah, we'll work it out," I agree and grab a duffel bag out of the closet.

I sniff it to make sure it wasn't ever one of my bags I used for the gym.

It smells okay, so I start shoving my shit into it.

The room is silent now, and I can't help but feel worse.

I've alienated her when all I wanted to do was tell her I'm concerned, and I wish I could be more to her. Be more involved and take up some of the space he's unrightfully taken. The man makes her crazy, and consequently, me as well.

It only take a few minutes and my bag is ready to go.

I don't need much; I travel light.

She puts her workout outfit back on, but she moves with a rigidity I've never seen before.

"God," I groan. "I'm sorry, Bella. Ignore me. I say stupid stuff, and I don't know why I'm being such a possessive bastard. I just . . . I really enjoy being with you. It makes me nuts to think of him trying to get closer to you—to put his hands on you." I shake my head.

"No—don't." Her legs part and she takes on a stance that's hard to read. It's not defensive, yet it's not timid either. Is she preparing to run? "Don't apologize. I like that you feel that way about me—it's a lot to process though. I have a few people to consider here. I have a family."

"I know, and I wish I could help more . . ." And wish I was part of it.

What the hell is wrong with me? I really don't know her that well, but there's this place in my heart she's stolen, and being around her makes it harder to contain. It's spreading—this overwhelming need to be near and part of her everyday life.

"I can't turn away, but I know I should," she says so quiet, I almost wonder if I was even meant to hear it.

"No, Bella." I move so quick, she startles. I grab her by the shoulders. "You shouldn't. We both know this is bigger than us—that we belong together. Let's not worry about this now, huh? We've gotta get you packed and get ready. I'm excited to meet Cori."

She smiles and her eyes water. "Really? You really do wanna get to know her?"

"I do." I smile back.

"You're so wonderful—I can barely breathe around you," she says, her fingertips ghosting over my heart.

"That's you, beautiful. It's how I feel about you. Feel how fast it races?" I press my hand on hers, flattening her palm to my chest.

She smiles wider. "Edward . . ."

"Yeah?" I lick my lips and lean in for kiss.

She leans back. "As long as you never lie to me, I think we'll be together for a long time."

My heart damn near bursts at her words. I close my eyes and take a deep, steadying breath.

"I've never lied in my life, but if I do, I hope you'll kick the shit out of me—or better yet, send Jake after me. I'll deserve it."

She drums her fingers on my chest. "Okay."

"Good. It's a deal then. You're staying with me, I'll keep being a jealous asshole since I can't seem to control it, and we'll fuck in between because I can't get enough of you." I grin and my head wobbles.

She laughs.

"Still too cute for words." She pulls her hand away and visibly relaxes. "All right. No more distractions with talk of fucking. We can deal with more of that later. Should we buy the tickets here online or wait 'til we get to my place?"

"Whatever you want," I answer. I brush my fingers up her arm.

Why can't I stop touching her?

She pauses. "Let's wait, then. I wanna use a different credit card to buy the tickets."

"You're not buying mine," I say. "It's bad enough you paid for my yoga class." "How are you going to afford this?" she asks, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Please don't be stubborn; I'll pay for it. I'm the one dragging you on this trip. You wouldn't be going if it wasn't for me."

I square my shoulders. "No, I wanna pay for it. I'm not your little charity case, just your boyfriend. I don't want you to ever resent me for not paying my way."

She shuffles her right foot and looks at the ground, pausing. A second later, she takes a deep breath. "I would never resent you. It's just money, and I have plenty of it. It's not a big deal to me at all. I hate taking what little resources you have. There's no need to be the hero here and do more than you can. I understand. I _do_ remember what it's like to be a poor college kid. I was once in that position, too."

"I know you do, and I know you don't care about using your money on me, but I feel uncomfortable with this. It won't sit right with me." I rub her upper arms. "Call it ego. Call it asshole tendencies. I don't care—but I can't allow you to do this. I'm paying my own way."

She steps closer and pulls me into a little squeeze. "You definitely know how to be adorable, make me go all mushy and get fucked again, don't you?" She pinches my ass.

"_Adorable_? How old am I? Five?"

"You fucked when you were five?" She smirks.

I pinch her ass back. "If I saw you at that age, yeah, I might've."

She barks a laugh. "Yeah, that sounds about right for you." She leans in and gives me a quick, passing kiss then pulls away. "C'mon. Cori will have a schoolgirl-crush in no time. Let's get back to my place. I need ta pack."

"Okay, now I'm frightened, and might not be able to get it up again."

She giggles. "That's probably for the best since your monster hard-on might scare her and turn on my mom."

"Shit, woman. You know I'm teasing. I'm always hard around you." I set her hand on my dick. It's a semi—but still . . . Proves my point. "But I'll behave—promise."

She gives a knowing smile. "Yeah, I know your version of behaving. You were so naughty in yoga—groping when no one was watching."

"What's wrong with that?" I cup her breasts.

"Nothing, unless it's my daughter that accidentally sees it."

I drop my hands. "I promise, Bella. I'm not that big of an idiot."

"I know." She smiles, and I swear to God, I fall apart just looking at her.

Her trust means everything to me.

I won't screw this up.

"I won't pay for the tickets—okay? But if you start to resent how much I'm draining your bank account, you tell me and we'll figure out some compromises so we can still do the things we want to without making you feel uncomfortable," she says, her tone gentle.

"Thank you. And don't worry about it, I'll figure out my finances. I'm really good with money."

"So am I," she replies.

I grab my bag, she gets the leftover pizza, and we head out.

As I'm throwing my stuff in the trunk, she's behind me, stroking up and down my ass and rubbing her breasts into my back. I smile at her aggressiveness.

"What happened to you not being into physical displays in public?"

I glance around. No one's out, but still . . . Someone can easily walk by and observe her blatant attempts to seduce me.

"I've had a momentary lapse in judgment." She exhales across the back of my neck. "It's this ass—God, it's amazing." She squeezes my cheeks. "So rock hard."

"Kinda like my dick, now that you're touching me again?" I smirk.

"I don't know if anything's as hard as that, but your entire body's . . ." she leans in and trails the tip of her tongue up the nape of my neck ". . . delicious, and tighter than should be legal."

She runs her knee up the back of mine.

My breath catches in my throat.

"I've never been fucked while pinned up against the side of a car," she whispers in my ear. "Have you?"

"Well, since I'm the one that does the fucking, no—I've never been fucked on the side of a car."

"Smart ass," she says, squeezing my cheeks even harder then slapping it.

I exhale so loudly, making an erotic pained noise, she moans and leans into me in response, tucking her forehead into my neck.

"You're gonna kill me," she says. "I want you too much. Old ladies like me break hips this way."

"Only if the fucker ramming their dick into them while they pin them against a car doesn't know what they're doing," I say, reaching behind me and gripping her thighs.

"So, that's a yes. You have done this before."

"I didn't say that." I manage to turn around and grab her by the hips to hold her in place. "I haven't done this before, and I prefer if we're gonna do this, it be darker than this so nobody sees you."

"But they'll see your ass flexing and figure out what we're doing pretty damn quick," she points out.

"I don't give a fuck if they see me. I'll deal with that, as long as you're covered." My face is right in fronts of hers, our lips almost touching. "You're mine. I don't allow other dicks to see what's mine. I don't share, Bella."

"Good. I don't want to share you either." She strokes my ass and bites her lower lip, baiting me.

"My God, we're never gonna get over to your place at this rate," I say, smiling.

"Yeah, you're right." Her face drops a little and she pulls away.

Before I can tell her I was joking, she's placed the keys in my palm and she's in the car, seated in the passenger's seat.

My shoulders slump.

How does she get me so worked up from such little touches, simmering looks and seductive words?

I can't think when she's touching me like that.

When I'm in my seat, have the key right at the ignition, she grabs my wrist. "I'm sorry if I'm too out of control. But I want you again, so much it's hard to think about anything else. I wanna see you pull your gorgeous cock out. I want you to play with it while I watch. I wanna lick the bead off the tip when your precome drips out. I wanna—"

I lunge at her, my mouth seals over hers and I grip the back of her neck so tight, I realize I'm probably hurting her, so I let go with a growl.

"We're fucking the minute we get to your place. If you take too much time to shut the door—you'll be fucked against the side of your car, or in your doorway. I don't care which, but if you're gonna talk like that, look at me like _that_, then yes, my cock's gonna be out, taking over."

She smiles and her eyes glaze over. "Sounds like I need to live in a house with padded walls."

"If you like. Straightjacket's can be kinky." I kiss the tip of her nose.

She leans into it.

"I don't know why I'm even listening to this. I'll be in one soon for being with a minor," she teases.

I lean back in my seat. "No more talk like that. I don't wanna hear that on this trip at all. I'm legal, and you know it."

"You certainly fuck like it," she mutters.

I grin. "And that's all you need to remember."

I start up the car and drive off; we're back at her place within minutes.

"That was quick," she observes, her hand on the handle to exit the car.

I set my hand on her thigh. "Do you think I can concentrate about anything else besides being inside of you? Maybe you letting me borrow this car indefinitely's a bad idea. I can't afford speeding tickets."

"You won't speed because you'll know that'll slow you down even more, and if you're coming over to get your dick wet in the middle of the night, well . . ." She trails off, opens the car door and gets out.

"Not nice," I growl, shoving my way out of the car. Once I'm standing up, have shut my car door and have my bag in hand, she stops and gives me a heated look. "I'm already trying to figure out how to get over here nightly, and convince you it's a good idea. How about I invite your ex over to watch? Let's give him a call now . . . He can get his first show this instant."

She pulls her phone out of my pocket and starts pressing buttons.

I lurch forward and swipe it away. "Jesus—I was kidding."

"I wasn't going to call him. I was checking to make sure Cori didn't call when the phone was turned off. I figured once I got you inside, I won't be thinking about her anymore."

My Lord—did she say earlier I turned her to mush? I swear my bones turned spongy when she said that.

"Oh sorry." I hand it back to her. I fish my phone out of my pocket and extend it to her. "Don't forget we're swapping, so I want yours back."

I hardly ever get phone calls with the exception of a few of my buddies. My mom calls every few days, but other than that I don't use it very often.

I turn around and holy shit! Looks like I'm going to get my chance. Jake's blue Rolls-Royce convertible is parked in front of her place. He's obviously inside because he's not in his car or on the porch, and I was too fucking preoccupied with thinking about how to get inside her again to notice he was around.

"Stay here," she says as she tries to leave.

I grab her arm. "Don't you dare. If you want us to work you can't keep leaving me behind to talk to and pacify him. I'm coming with you, and I'm being involved with these conversations. We're together now, so let's act like it."

"Are you sure? I don't want you to have to deal with him. He gets pretty nasty and ugly." Her eyes soften and she swallows.

"I've been dealing with this asshole on the phone all day long. I can handle it. I'm a grown man," I say in a light, teasing tone.

Her eyes light up and she smiles her brilliant, adoring grin. "Have I mentioned you're amazing, and I love you?" "I'm sure you have, but just so you know—I love you, too, and we'll make sure to show our love in front of him so he can see what we have. Ready?" I grab her hand, making sure she isn't going to get away without me.

I leave my bag in the trunk, close it and we move up the front walkway as if he's not inside. She stares at me, and I stare right back, my chest full of love and some crazy, inexplicable elation.

How does she do this to me—knock me on my ass inside a moment by simply giving me that look?

My stomach flops as she bites her lower lip and sucks on it for a moment, as if she's fighting off a devious grin.

"My God, I may not have to pretend he's not there when I'm fucking your brains out—woman, you're wrecking me," I say. "You're all I can focus on."

She slaps my arm playfully. "Behave, or I may not invite you back."

"If I misbehave, it's _exactly_ why you'll invite me back. I can tell by that naughty look in your eyes—you want this."

She pinches my arm next and then she goes silent.

We halt at the door. She grabs her keys from me so she can unlock the door.

A moment later she pauses before she uses them and says, "I'm giving you a spare key to my place the second he leaves. I want you over here anytime you're lonely or wanna be with me. I hope you don't have a problem with this . . ."

"A problem with an open ended invitation to be with you whenever I want? Hell no." I shake my head and chuckle.

Now I know I can deal with this fucker no problem. Just knowing she's this dedicated to us, has me high and confident as hell.

"Good. I may be calling you more than you'd like." Her voice goes hoarse.

Fuck.

I push her up against the wall, right beside the door-jamb, and before she can blink, I've got my mouth covering hers, my fingers digging into her ribs while my dick grinds into her like I'm an animal.

Jesus, the feel of her. The rhythm of her breaths pounding into me . . .

How can I resist? How can I ever stay away?

I hear Jake inside, pushing the curtains aside at the window. He's probably watching us intently.

I hope that nosy mother fucker's getting what he wants—a free show.

I bite back the urge to smile and flip off this bastard. It's unnecessary when this is so much more effective and gratifying.

Bella moans, making it that much more satisfying.

I fondle her breasts and she wraps her right leg around me. Hell yeah, I encourage this behavior by wrapping my arms under her ass and giving her a boost.

She's crushed even tighter against the house, and I'm even hotter for her, panting and nipping at her neck.

Her legs wrap tightly around my hips and her ankles lock together.

A moment later she breaks the kiss. "He's watching."

"I know," I reply.

"God, so fucking hot!" She leans her head back, and I slide my mouth up and down her neck. "Don't stop."

"Why would I?" I grin and lick across her pulse point.

_Click!_

The front door is being unlocked.

I slide her back down to the ground with the biggest, damn wicked smile my face has ever produced. "Well, that was fun. I think he can take more. Don't you?"

"Edward . . ." She shakes her head and chuckles like I'm so adorable, she can't help herself.

Jake opens the door only to find two completely aroused people who are not ashamed in the least.

"If you're done dry humping in front of the whole God damn neighborhood then I'd like to talk to you alone, Bella." He scowls at her and his arms cross over his chest.

We step inside, I close the door and Bella takes my hand in a firm grip.

"Whatever you've gotta say, you're going to share it in front of Edward. We're together now; he's a part of my life so he's included in everything I do." She steps closer to me.

Jakes eyes pop open and he huffs. "What? You barely met this guy."

"It doesn't matter. We love each other, and we're gonna be together all the time, so you better get used to it." She squeezes my hand.

He rolls his eyes at her. "This is one of the most ridiculous things you've ever done, and that's saying a lot since you've got a shitload of a list you've accumulated over the years." His arms flex as he grips them tight with his hands.

"What's ridiculous? How about sleeping with several women at the same time while you're still banging your ex-wife? That's not ridiculous?" I ask. My eyes narrow at him and my pecs twitch in response.

_Please, give me a reason to beat your stupid ass . . ._

"I was merely tending to your needs at your request," he tells her, his eyes raking over her as he wear a big nasty grin on his smug, prick of a face.

"I never asked you to fuck me!" she says, her voice raising in pitch and volume. "You were the one pushing it. I was getting my needs taken care of with other men. I don't need you anymore. I've got my needs permanently taken care of now." She turns and kisses me.

"Puhleazzzzz! He doesn't know how to pleasure you. He's a kid who barely had his first erection last week." He groans and waves his hand at me like I'm a pesky fly.

Before I can answer, Bella steps forward and her chest puffs out as she takes a large, exasperated breath. "He's pleasured me more today than you ever did in our whole twenty years of sexual experiences."

I choke on my inhalation. She's serious? My God—she just told him the absolute worst thing a woman could ever say to a guy. She basically told him that he sucks in bed and that a younger, less experienced guy has done the job better than he ever did as her husband. I'm exploding in my pants with the hardest erection I've ever experienced, and I'm breathless, unable to answer or add anything to what she's said.

"So childish, Bella. This is what you're resorting to now? Hitting below the belt? You know I've had way better than you in bed, but I don't throw it in your face," he says.

"You just did," I tell him. "And you're lying in the process. There's no one better than her. No fucking way."

His eyes darken and flash to me. "Is there a reason you're here? If you pleasured her so much, then why does she still need more? Obviously, she was ready to get rid of you and call me up so a real man could attend to her needs."

"She knows why I'm here." I grin and my head cocks to the side. "And it has nothing to do with you."

"For once," she mumbles.

"You can't be serious," he says, turning his gaze back to her. "Is he even legal?"

"You're not staying for dinner. That's not happening anymore. When Corinne gets back in town we'll figure out how to work things out, but for now dinners are canceled and so is our sexual arrangement. No more sleeping together."

"Are you even going to address his age? You could be his fucking grandma." He grunts in disgust when he looks back over at me.

I keep smiling.

"Jake, I'm not going to dignify your questions with a response. If you don't know me well enough by now to know the answer to that, then you don't deserve an answer." She points at the door. "Time to go."

"Fine, I'll have to cut you off financially then since you're cutting off my benefits." His arms swing loose at his side but his bunching fists say he's still fighting for her.

"I couldn't be happier. You know I don't want or need your money. I'm doing fine on my own. I can support our daughter no problem without your money." Her grip on me loosens.

I wrap my other hand around our clasped fingers.

"No you fucking can't!" he spits. "You live in this pathetic shack and drive that shitty car."

"I live in a nice home that's in a safe neighborhood, and I drive a sensible, affordable car that's practically brand new. Your idea of shitty is what I call snobby," she shoots back. "I would've bought a more modest home than this if I didn't think you would've freaked out about it and taken me to court over something so stupid."

I can't stop myself; I stride forward and say, "Enough! You're done here." I grab him by the arm to escort him out.

He takes a swing at me.

I duck right in time and laugh.

"We're changing the locks on the doors. You're not welcome here anymore. This isn't your home." She stares after us as I drag him to the exit.

"Bella, come on! You know I still love you!" he whines and continues to fight me as I push his ass away from her.

I open the door, shove him out and lock it. He immediately puts his key back in the door and starts trying to get back in.

"Jake, stop it!" she hollers.

"No, you stop it! You love me! I know you do," he screams back.

He pounds on the door since I've got a death grip on the dead bolt so he can't turn it with his key.

"I don't love you! Leave!" She goes shrill and bangs back on the door.

"Fine! Stupid slut! You'll be begging me to fuck you before the week's out after he's left your fat, old ass! He's probably already laughing at you behind your back with his buddies—you're pathetic enough to let him!" His feet stomp and he kicks the door.

I open it with my eyes blazing. I push him _hard _down the walkway. "Don't you ever fucking say that to her! She's the most beautiful woman in the world. You've fucked her up and controlled her for too long. No more!" I swing at him and hit him in the gut so hard he falls back and lands his ass on the concrete. "And unlike you, I'd never treat her like shit and then laugh about it with others. I don't speak bastard-with-tiny-dick-and-big-insecurities. That's your native tongue."

"She's mine!" He stumbles back up to his feet and rushes at me.

I kick him in the chest and send him flying back again. "Stay away—she doesn't love you anymore. She's in love with me. She's _mine_. A hearing-aid might help you hear her better. When. She's. Screaming. My. Name. When. I'm. Inside. Her," I enunciate like he's too geriatric to know I've made a sound.

Bella's on the steps, begging me, "Come inside; leave him out here."

I spit at him. "You've lost the best woman in the world because you're a selfish dick. I'll never cheat on her, _never_! I know an amazing woman when I see one."

"She loves the way I treat her. She eats it up." His teeth grind so loud, it makes my skin crawl.

"Not anymore." I lean forward, arms stiff at my side. "She's gotten a taste of a real man, treating her right, and she's hooked. She won't ever go back to you."

"Bella, I love you baby, don't shut me out!" he cries at her.

She ignores him, moves over to me and pulls me into a tight embrace. "Let's go inside."

Is she worried that he hurt me? I'm fine.

"Move in with me," I tell her as we're walking inside of her house.

The air grows thick and tense.

She locks the door, turns to me and says, "You know I can't do that. Cori has a life here. I can't pull her out of her school and uproot her like that."

"Then I wanna move in with you. You need me to keep this asshole at bay."

"If he tries to get back inside without our permission I'll file a restraining order." Her head falls forward and she sighs. "Let's not get carried away, okay? I'm not saying never, but I'm not ready to discuss this yet."

"I'm not trying to rush anything; I'm only saying, won't he find a way to fight it and work around it since he's a lawyer? You need to get away from him for good. He knows this house too well." I wave my right hand around the room. "He's gonna press the advantage—that's what he does. And I wanna protect you."

She pauses, wears an expression like she's considering what I'm saying. "This is insane. I barely know you." Her voice cracks; full of emotion.

The torn way she looks at me along with her shaky voice, breaks me up.

Shit—I don't want to trap her, but fuck—she needs help, and I'm dying to provide her with it.

"Then let's get a new place together that's all ours. Our little family," I whisper. "When you're ready . . ."

"You don't even know Cori yet. How do you know you want to be a part of my family?"

Why is she fighting this? Doesn't she want me? Doesn't she think that I want to be with her no matter what? She's right, I don't know Cori but I will with time, and I know I'll grow to love her. At least if she's anything like her mother, I don't see how I wouldn't like her immediately and care about her welfare.

"Show me her room." I have to learn as much about her daughter as I can.

"Are you sure?" she asks.

"Yes, more sure than I've ever been of anything."

She takes me by the hand and leads me to what I can already tell is her sanctuary—the place her heart resides as her pride and joy—her _daughter's_ space.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: What You Wish For . . .**

Bella grabs my hand and leans her head into my shoulder as she slowly walks me past the kitchen and her own room. Cori's room is next to hers at the south end of the hallway. She pushes the door open to a lilac colored, charming room. There are book shelves that wrap around, reaching up to the vaulted ceiling. They're covered with stuffed animals, pictures of Cori and Jake together doing fun things like playing soccer, swimming in a pool, eating popsicles out on the front steps. She's the cutest little girl I've ever seen. Dark skin, long, shiny sienna hair and large, luminous eyes framed with thick lashes. Her eyes are a few shades darker than Bella's but just as deep and mesmerizing. She's got two cute little dimples in her cheeks when she's smiling, an adorable little button nose and a heart shaped face. She could be a model for children's magazines.

My heart swells already, and this is based completely off pictures.

How can I do anything but love her? Her sweet personality shines very clearly through these photos.

With a deep breath, I continue to gaze around her room.

It's tidy with a pink billowy canopy bed placed on top of a large flower shaped, pink and lavender throw rug. There's a table in the far corner with some puzzles and books on it. A dream catcher hangs above her bed. There's also a large white wooden book shelf, taking up a large chunk of space next to the window. It's covered with art supplies, tons of books and a few jewelry boxes. She has drawings tacked up on the walls of both of her parents and a few of her friends—presumably from school. There are framed posters of flowers and wild meadows. She draws pretty well for a six-year-old.

I'm impressed.

She's talented.

Like her mother.

I smile and step into the middle of the room to soak up as much of this little girl's world as I can. It's easy to pick up on her goodness and sweet spirit.

How did Jake father a child like this?

I glance over at Bella and know why this little girl's so precious.

I give the credit to her fabulous mother.

All at once, I'm overwhelmed. My knees weaken, and it's the oddest sensation; I feel like I love this little girl already. I gasp as I see a little note she left for Bella on her pillow. I walk over and give her a questioning look, asking if I can read it.

"Go ahead," she says smiling with pride.

_Momma,_

_I will miss you wen I'm in Florida with Gramgram. Hav a litol bit of fun without me. Go on dates and be safe. Take care of Quineayla for me. He needs dinner sum timez and you make yummy sketys._

_Luv yor litol girl,_

_Coco_

I'm totally choked up by this little girl. I have no idea why, but her little letter has my heart twisting in knots. She drew a picture on the bottom of Bella that has my eyes misting up. It's really cute, and I love how she's looking out for her mom's happiness. It comforts me in that it makes me hopeful Cori can accept me as her mother's boyfriend.

"She calls herself Coco because that's what Jake calls her," Bella explains.

"What does this mean?" I point to the odd word Quineayla.

"It's what she calls her dad. It means 'Spirit' in Quileute. It's the Native American tribe Jake's from."

"Wow," is all I can choke out.

"She'll love you, like I do." She beams at me, then lays down on Cori's bed and pulls me down to her side.

"You must miss her terribly," I say, staring at the pictures on her daughter's wall.

"I do. It's been really hard but at the same time it's nice to have some space to myself. Believe it or not, it's helped me to have some distance from Jake. He's not here as much since she's gone."

I cringe, trying not to think of how often he's here and how he'd push to be here even more if he could.

"Why did he divorce you if he still practically lives here?"

"Lots of reasons. The biggest reason was I didn't like him cheating on me, and he wanted to be able to sleep around as much as he wanted to. He also didn't agree with how I was parenting Cori when she was little. And then there was the fact he hated how my body had changed into what it is now." Her voice goes soft at the end.

"Is he controlling with her like he is with you?"

"No, she runs _him_. She's got him wrapped around her finger. He can't say no to her on anything. He spoils her rotten and loves being with her."

I glance at her, and she offers a soft, almost apologetic smile.

I cup her cheek.

"Does he share custody?" I blink, trying to clear my head a little.

"Yeah, he has her Monday through Wednesday night and then Thursday's he picks her up after our date. Then we have dinner together, he puts her to bed and well, you know what usually happens after that." She looks away from me.

"Why did you continue to sleep with him after you got divorced? It seems like you can't stand him. I don't understand this arrangement you have with him." My fingers flex, and my spine stiffens. Just thinking about the way she sounds when she talks to him on the phone has my gut twisting.

She sighs and slouches as she stares at me. "I still loved him and craved sex. I had needs. He sometimes acted like he still wanted me. Cori was two when we got divorced." She runs her hand over her daughter's bedspread. "I didn't know how to date anymore, be sexy, alluring, attract a man. I only knew I was a mom. A horny woman that liked to fuck. I didn't know what else to do."

"Did you ask him to sleep with you like he said?" My voice shakes a little at the end.

"No. He offered, and I didn't have a reason to refuse. He's a good-looking guy, and the fact he's the father of my child, of course I kept hoping he'd come back to me so we could be a family again."

I step closer to her. "Even if he makes you nuts?"

"It's complicated." She closes her eyes and angles away from me.

"Complicated enough you choose to ignore he acts like a dick?"

"Yeah, something like that." Her eyes fill with sadness. "Sometimes people change. I hoped he'd figure out it was a mistake he'd cheated on me."

I growl low in my chest. "Why he strayed I can't even begin to understand." I reach out and pinch a strand of her hair and roll it between my fingers. "When there's perfection like this—why look for anything else. Christ—Bella, I can't imagine even wanting anyone other you, and I barely know you."

She blinks and her breath seeps out of her slowly. "That's called infatuation."

She grips my wrist, but I kept touching her hair. I stare in her eyes, then my gaze moves to her lips. "It's called honesty. That douche ex of yours should try it sometime. It works great for me."

"Yeah, well, I think he's more concerned with getting his own needs met than telling the truth."

I take her hand and lead her back into the living room. Her daughter's room was sweet and innocent, but I really don't want to kiss her in there. Seems very wrong to me.

"Are you mad at me for saying all that about him? I probably shouldn't have been so blunt. You disarm me when you look at me that way." Her lips press together.

She sits down on the couch, and I take a seat right next to her, settling my left hand on her right knee. "Don't ever apologize for telling the truth. If I never touched you again and you said this was over, at least I'd have the memory that we had something honest. That's what attracts me to you the most."

She blinks and her lips part. "Okay."

The sound of her soft breathy acceptance does something to me. Hits me square in the chest, and I crave closeness with her.

I crave having her breath on me, her hands in my own.

Without a second's thought, I lean forward, hook my fingers into hers and with my body weight, coax her into resting back in the cushions as I get closer.

I put her hands by her head at the top of the couch and breathe her in as I kiss and taste her with inviting licks and touches with my tongue.

"Do you still want me? Have I fucked this up? You said you wanted to make love as soon as we got to my place." Her fingers squeeze in my grip, and she gives me a pleading look.

"What do _you_ think?" I tip my hips into her and grind into her belly.

"I think I need my hands so I can get you naked." Her fingers flex in mine, and she glances over at our joined hands on her right.

"You have teeth. Use them." I smirk.

"Cougars use their claws."

"Not this one. She uses teeth and her mouth." I gaze at her lips.

She moistens them. "And what if I bite you?"

"Well, what does a cougar do if she gets hurt or one of her family gets wounded?" I get my face right next to hers and rub my stubbled cheek across her smooth one.

"They lick."

"That's right," I say in her ear. "I think you can lick me wherever you bite—so make it good. If you're gonna bite, pick your spot carefully."

I sit back up, yank her hands in mine so she's upright, too, and then I stand while keeping our hands together.

"You really want to make this difficult, huh?" She grins.

"Not the point." I shift my hips from side to side.

She leans forward and yanks at my waistband with her lips. After letting it go, she asks, "Well, what is the point then? Playing the game of 'Old Maid,' 'cause I'm not getting any younger here."

"So impatient." I let go of her hands. "Fine. I'll show you how this goes. And sometimes the moments that take our breath away are the moments we work for the hardest. And you—Bella—are worth working for and spending all my time on." I motion to the carpet. "Lie down. Watch my teeth and my tongue. Both are sharp and wicked."

She chuckles as she lowers herself to the ground. "This oughtta be interesting."

First I nibble at her arm, and she makes this soft cooing noise and squirms.

I do the same on the other inner arm. Her eyelids grow heavy as she watches me.

Without even thinking, I've got my teeth on her clothes, and I'm peeling her out of them. I drag a wet line down the center of her torso, and then work at tugging her bra cups down.

She gasps quietly when I nip at her nipples, and when I wind my tongue around the curve of her breast, her back arches up.

"God, you have no idea how good that feels," she says, catching her breath.

"I do now. I just saw the way you reacted," I say, chuckling low in my gut.

When I've got her completely naked, panting and wet in various fantastic places, she sits up.

"Your turn," she says, a wicked glint in her smoldering eyes.

"No talk of dentures falling out," I warn her. "You keep talking about being an Old Maid, and I'll show you how you're not too old to be spanked. You're not the only kinky one around here."

She grins. "Yes, sonny."

I drop my head and smirk. "Not funny."

"No, it's not, but it's sexy as hell." She growls at me. "You're hard as fuck, so I know you like the idea of me being much older than you."

I lie back, wait for her to start, and when she doesn't, I look her in the eye. "Something wrong?"

"No, just thinking." She traces her eyes down my chest.

My dick tightens and so does my voice when I ask, "See something fun?"

"I wouldn't call it fun." She shrugs.

"What would you call it then?" I reach for her.

She ignores my attempt to get her down on my level. "I'd call it hot. I have no idea what I'm doing with you."

I groan. "Don't start that again. We already said—"

"I know, and I thought I'd be fine continuing on, but honestly, Edward, what are you doing with me? It might be fun today, but we've both already said we love each other. We can't possibly know that. I don't believe in love at first sight—and you shouldn't either. Don't sell your future short."

I sit up, stroke her cheeks and kiss the corner of her mouth. "What's going on? I'm not freaking out about this, so why are you?"

"You don't know what it means to have your whole future in front of you, and if you make one bad turn—_bam_!" She snaps. "It could be screwed up forever. I don't want to do that to you. I care about how your life winds up for you." She blinks and then her eyes well up. "I'd never forgive myself if I fucked it all up for you."

"_Or_, I can turn an unexpected corner, find something I never realized I'd want so badly, stay on that course, and it turns out to be the best decision of my life." I set her right palm over my heart. "Feel that?"

She nods.

"I know who I am. I'm not afraid of making a wrong choice, not when you're involved. I already know you've done some shit you wish you hadn't, but that's why I trust you so much. I know you're only looking out for my own best interests—being wiser and all." I wink.

She looks about ready to laugh, but she holds it back.

"Besides, how many times do I have to tell you—I'm not interested in the girls my age. I've got a friend who thinks I'm a freak because I don't care about one-night-stands and easy lays."

She smirks. "Yet here we both are naked." She motions to me. "What do you call this?"

"I call this two mature people loving each other, and unable to contain themselves because we're both the best damn thing that's ever happened to each other. Stop questioning why I'm with you. All you need to focus on is this—us, and Cori. That's it. I'll deal with the rest."

She frowns, and my hands go cold a little. My gut clenches.

"Why would you even want to deal with all my shitty baggage?"

I beam at her. "Because, beautiful, you're what I want. You're worth it." I run the pads of my thumbs across her cheeks, and then run my right one over her lips. "No one makes me feel this way but you."

"According to you," she swallows, "you weren't looking for it."

"That's why it's even better. I wasn't looking, because so far I wasn't seeing anything I really liked. I saw you—and damn, I was hooked right away. And, yes, it was because I thought you were hot, but then when you spoke to me, fuck, woman. No one ever said shit so honest like that before. Thank you for that. I was sick of all the immature games the girls around me were playing. I always felt like they had some ulterior motive, and if they got me into bed, they'd be disappointed anyhow. It seemed pointless."

She smiles in her eyes, and I kiss her, then fold her into my arms. "How do you know it's all going to be okay, though?" she asks.

"Easy." I rock her back and forth. "Because this feeling inside my chest—it doesn't lie." I pause and kiss the top of her head. "How about you? Has your gut or your heart ever lied to you?"

"Only once," she admits.

"Tell me about it?"

"Maybe later."

I hum. "Does it have to do with Jake?"

"Yes, and a reluctant me in a white dress, walking toward the priest at the head of the church. I knew then I was making a mistake, but I figured it was all nerves, so I ignored it." She shakes her head into my chest. "I've felt guilty ever since, only Cori . . . Well, I couldn't really regret being with him any longer since she was the result."

"See? Even when we make a wrong turn, it can turn out to be good. I want to do this with you, and when I say I love you, it's not because I'm high off a new relationship, although I am enjoying that part of it, but it's because it's true. I don't have a reason to lie to you."

My chest warms, and I can barely keep from making love to her again.

"It's all so scary, and I'm the older, 'wiser one' as you've put it, so why am I the one freaking out?"

I chuckle. "Maybe it's because you've seen too much over the years you were married, so it's jaded you a little?" I try to shrug, but with her in my arms it doesn't happen. She sighs, and I stroke her long hair down her bare back.

"Let me ask you a question," I say, my voice low and calm.

"Go ahead." She tips her head back and looks up in my eyes.

"When you first started your job, were you scared then, too?"

She blinks, licks her lips, then says, "Terrified."

"Then why'd you do it?"

She settles in my arms and wears a thoughtful expression. God, I love it when she looks like that. "I had to eat and pay bills, and I did it for my daughter. I didn't have the option of letting fear get in the way."

I pull her snug into my chest. "And I don't have the option of not being near you, unless you tell me no. I have to breathe—I have to be able to function, and even though we haven't known each other long, fuck if I feel like my ribcage shrinks when you're not near me. All I can manage to do is think about you—where you are, what you're doing. I wonder about what you're listening to if you're in your car driving; what kind of food you're eating for lunch. What did you think of the last book you read?"

She brightens. "Really? You care about all that mundane shit?"

"I care about _you_—and that means every little thing about you interests me and drives me wild. It means I want to know more because I can't get enough."

She wiggles out of my hold, gets behind me and puts her hands on my shoulders. "I'm going to massage you, and you ask me whatever you want, 'kay?"

I turn my head to look at her over my shoulder. "Why?"

"Because when I'm massaging someone, it releases endorphins. It helps me to relax, so if you want to know something, I'll be less uptight about it. So, ask away." She digs her fingers in, and finds a knot next to my shoulder blade quickly.

"What's the worst date you ever had?" I begin.

She groans and makes a clicking sound with her teeth. Her hands keep working on me, and she scoots closer. "I had this guy once that was ten years older than I was, tell me in the middle of dinner I had to go home with him immediately, no questions asked." She moves her hands down my spine, rocking as she works her body hard.

I shift into a better position, so she can really get a good angle.

A moment later, I'm moaning when she gets into my hip joints a little.

"So stiff from all that wild fucking," she muses.

"Christ, that feels good," I say, my head buzzing.

"Did you have any other questions?" Her voice is soft, and definitely serene.

The room is tranquil, even though I'm turned on by her and the way she's touching me.

"Yeah; what did you do with that guy?"

"Who, the idiot, insisting I go to his house right that second without saying a word?"

I nod, and watch her hands move over me. It's mesmerizing how such petite hands have so much power. She moves down to my thighs, and makes them vibrate to life.

"I told him he was pretty cocky to think I'd do that. Then when I got up to leave, he grabbed my wrist. I threw a drink of water at his chest. When he let go, some woman yelled his name. I turned around, and this woman slapped me. It turned out he was married, he was cheating on her, and trying to do it with me. She smacked the shit out of him, and the security people hauled all three of us out."

I smile. "What did you do to him?" I drawl.

"Nothing." She wears a guilty expression.

"What? C'mon, tell me." I pinch her leg in front of me.

"I actually sent all of his emails, texts and voice mails to his wife. She had been tailing him that night, and saw us go in. She was glad I told her the truth, and that I hadn't done anything inappropriate with him."

"Jesus, that's fucked up." I laugh. "But I'm glad you helped her. Did she get a divorce?"

"No. He convinced her he could change. The sick part was I actually did find him attractive, and I wanted to fuck him, but when he started being all demanding, it turned me off."

My cock stiffens some more. "Yet, when _I_ get all demanding, it seems to slick that entrance for me." I grip her leg and then caress it. "Why is that, do you think?"

"I have no fucking clue."

I bite her ankle, then grin at her. "Yes, you do."

"Because for some stupid-ass reason, when you do it, I find it irresistible."

I run my hands up her leg, and stop at the crease of her thigh. "That's because unlike that douche, I talk to you beforehand. And I don't just talk, I listen. I hang on your every word, and I respect you. That's the difference here."

She closes her eyes and tips her head back, letting it hang there for a moment. "You sure you're only twenty?"

"Yeah." I sit up the rest of the way and take her into my lap. "But it doesn't mean I can't see what happened to you."

"Any more questions, squirt?" She drops her head and kisses my chin, then rubs it away with her index finger.

"Best date. Ready . . . Go."

"The one when you saw me naked, didn't care I had marks of ugly all over me from being used by a prick, and decided I was pretty." Her eyes water. "God, why does that sound so pathetic?"

"It's beautiful, Bella, like you." I wrap her up in my arms, she nuzzles into my chest and I rock her. "Nothing pathetic about wanting to be accepted, and you already know I feel the same way. That's why we belong together."

She strokes my chest, and in moment, it heats to an unbearable level.

I flatten her out on the floor, take my time licking, sucking and kneading her body everywhere in return for her massage and for answering my questions.

"Ready to feel it again?"

"Your cock?" she asks, eyes all wide and innocent.

"Feel loved," I say, and I press my way inside.

And she squeezes because, dammit, she can't help it either.

.

.

.

We lie on the ground, puddled in each other's arms, caressing, kissing, and enjoying the silence.

After a while, she asks, "Did you need another massage?"

I snort. "No. I'm relaxed, and I wanna stay that way."

"My massages are supposed to relax you." She smacks my back.

I take her wrist in mine and kiss it. "I have no idea how you aren't getting sprayed down with come by your male clients. That was anything but relaxing. I was so fucking turned on with the way you were moving around me, making those sexy as fuck grunts and little soft sighs. It was the biggest seductive tease ever. My skin's still buzzing and tingling from your hands being on it."

She sighs. "Yeah, but I'm not naked when I'm massaging them, so they're not turned on."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that. They're men—they're coming to you because you're hot, they want your hands on them, and because it makes their balls tighten and dicks harden."

"Are you suggesting I'm not good at my job, and they're not coming to see me because I can actually get in those muscle tissues and work out whatever's bothering them?"

I chuckle without releasing a sound. "No, fuck, I didn't mean that. I'm only saying . . . Yes, you're awesome at it, but there are tons of awesome people out there that can give a great massage. They pick you over the others because you're also hot and you know how to turn a guy on without even trying. There's nothing more annoying than a stupid woman that tries too hard to gain attention by dressing provocatively, or pretending to be interested in what a guy thinks all because she wants him to fuck her. It's aggravating."

"Ohhhh, now we're gettin' somewhere—speaking from experience, huh?" She tickles her fingers down the side of my thigh. I fling it over her leg.

"Maybe."

"Uh uh. I shared my shittiest date with you, now it's your turn to recipro—"

Boots clomp up the pathway to her home, and she stifles a "Shit!" as she scrambles out of my arms.

We failed to lock the front door, and we don't need two guesses to figure out who's heading our way.

Jake.

She streaks toward her bedroom, and I race for the door, to stop him before he gets a fucking toe inside.

_Slaaam!_

The door swings open when I'm less than three feet away, preparing to lock it back up.

"Fuck! God, I figured you'd be done by now!" He groans and looks away. "Tuck that fucking thing away."

"Fuck you," I say, standing there, unmoving. "She didn't invite you in here."

"Jake, you need to come back later," she says, re-entering the room, dressed in a silky, turquoise robe with little flowers embroidered in it at the bottom. Fuck, she looks like a model.

"To hell with that. Tell this fucker to get dressed so he can get out. I need to talk to you about Coco." Jake leans against the wall, keeping his eyes off me.

I grab my clothes off the floor a few feet away and drag them back on.

"Finally—your fucking ass is always hanging out when you're around her. Jesus, it's repulsive," he says, scrunching his nose.

"The part where I said 'Fuck you, she didn't invite you?' Yeah, it wasn't a metaphor." I approach him, keeping myself between him and her.

"Oh, did you learn that in your Senior English class yesterday? That's a mighty big word for a snot nosed fuck like you," Jake says, turning on me. "My daughter's suffering, and you, asshole, turned off her phone so Cori can't even speak to her mom. Feel good about yourself now?"

I shake my head. "We were going to call her in a few. Cori knows we're coming tomorrow."

His eyes go black and his face turns red as his brow wrinkles. "What the fuck?" He turns to Bella and stalks toward her, only I keep pace with him, and have my body blocking him. "You're taking this jackass with you?"

"None of your goddamn business," she answers him. She touches my shoulder when I'm close enough.

Does she want me to move? Oh fuck no. Not happening.

"It's already taken care of. She knows we're coming. I sent her a message," she adds.

Jake drags his fingers over his lunatic expression and groans. "Fine. Make a fool of yourself. See how much Coco respects you after this. She already knows you're out with all sorts of horny men, doing God knows what."

"She does not, and that's over now," she replies with a snort at the end.

I motion to the door. "We got your message. You can go now."

He keeps staring at her, fuming.

"You have to the count of three, and then I'll shove your ass out," I say through gritted teeth.

"Fuck, you know how to pick 'em, Bells. And he's the worst one yet, and barely graduated out of diapers."

I grab him by the shirt and haul him to the door. "We're so pleased you've learned manners over your years as a bitter old son of a bitch. Go practice them somewhere else now." I push him through the door and lock it.

When I turn to her, she's slumped over, breathing raggedly, and barely ekes out a "Thanks for taking care of him."

"You never need to thank me." I walk over to her, and she throws herself into my arms, going lax right away. "Besides, you already trashed him way worse earlier."

"I didn't do anything," she says, so faint she's barely audible.

I take a deep breath and exhale loudly. "You obviously have no idea why he came back here. I bet you anything Cori's fine."

She goes rigid in my arms. I coax her into relaxing as I drift my hands over her hair and up and down her shoulders. "You have no idea how bad you hurt him. You told him he sucked as a lover earlier, and that I've met your needs in a way he never did. Very harsh; his fucking Jupiter-sized ego can't take that shit."

She grumbles something about how she didn't know what she was saying.

"Hey . . ." I grab her by the arms and hold her out away from my chest so she'll look at me. "I was totally getting off on that, so you don't need to worry."

"I don't like hurting people," she responds, her lips twitching as she gets teary eyed.

"And from now on, you don't have to. I'll shove that dick out the door so fast, he can't get another nasty word out."

She thanks me a few more times, kisses me, and I pull her back to her room.

All that's left to do is pack and meet the rest of her family.

What else is there, until she lets me move in?

**A/N:**

**Lots of good news. I'm working on this story nonstop over the next few days until it's finished, then I'll post chapters 3 times a week.**

**Also, the reason it took me a few weeks to get back to it is because during that time I was absent from this story, I wrote 3 novels, and one of them, **_**Sleeves**_**, I'm publishing tomorrow. It's not all romantic and soft like this one—it's gritty, dirty, and has ton of really crude dirty talk. Good stuff. *winks***

**A few more things, **_**Slick as Ides**_**, the published version has been completed, and I plan to publish that in 2 months. If you want to be an ARC reviewer for it, email me (link in my profile) and let me know; tell me the format you need (mobi or epub) and I'll put you on my list. Or if you'd rather be an ARC reviewer for my BDSM Dom/sub romance coming out next month, **_**Knots**_**, let me know and I'll put you down for that one. Of course, you are welcome to ask for both of them. I don't mind…**

**If you've enjoyed any of my stories, feel free to give my page a like on Facebook, and I'd love to have you join us on my facebook group, so you can be a part of the discussions, and check out the teasers I leave there for all my stories. (All links in my profile. :D)**

**Chanse**


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